Dead Reckoning
by Konnie-chan
Summary: The many skeletons in Tatsumi's closet may start asking for acknowledgement some day. Tatsu.
1. PROLOGUE

**_Hello people!! Yes, this is a multi parted fic. I say, don't trust anything I say, as I've proved to be incapable to keep my word, lol. If you are one of my old readers, I must warn you, this fic is TATSU, and it will stay TATSU until the end. Don't worry, I haven't been converted to the dark side; I just had to give this pairing a try and I had this great idea (besides, there the one person who pestered me until I promised I'd write a TATSU fic, but that's beyond the point.) _**

**_I'll update when I can guys, but you know I'll always update. And no, this won't be 30 chapters long, I hope._**

**_Enjoy!_**

**DEAD RECKONING  
  
PROLOGUE**  
  
_Fire.  
  
It always started with fire. Black, hot fire of death and destruction. The world around him would begin to crumble as the flames devoured it all, and he would be glad. There was no fear, no doubt. Sorrow, yes, but that would be over soon. He would hurt no more. Maybe it wasn't the way he'd imagined it, but it was what he wanted, wasn't it? For the pain to stop; and not just his own.  
  
The huge snake would twirl and turn over their heads and he would stare in silence, knowing that the outcome would hurt others, knowing he should have found another way to solve things before it went that far, that there would be no turning back. But he also knew it would be better for everyone in the long run.  
  
And then, that young boy would jump into the flames, screaming that it wasn't right. And it wasn't. He was being selfish, putting his own pain over the others'. That young boy, who'd suffered in life maybe even more than anyone else there, would have the courage to do the right thing, in spite of his own well-being.  
  
He would doubt then, seeing that selfless and yet so selfishly loving act. Was it really what he wanted? Was he ready for what would come after? For the prize he'd have to pay? The answer was always no. But, in his dreams, he wasn't able to fix his mistake, and the flames would destroy everything before he had a chance to scream he'd changed his mind._

_And his life would be over._

* * *

Tatsumi woke up with a start, cold sweat covering his skin and thick, hot tears streaming down his otherwise impassive face. Every night since **that** night, every night the same dream. Every night the same guilt.

**_Tsuzuku_**


	2. ONE

**_A/N: Hey! Here I am. I hope I didn't make you wait terribly. I have to tell you now, there will be a few Original Characters in this story, too. Don't worry, no Mary Sues, ok? And this WILL be Tatsu till the end, as I said in the prologue. I know this chapter kinda sucks, but bare with me, it'll get good._**

**_Enjoy!_**

**DEAD RECKONING**

**CHAPTER ONE**

Tsuzuki strode along the park outside the JuOhCho building. It was a beautiful day, as usual, and the oldest shinigami of the ShokanKa took on the scent of the Sakura petals carpeting the ground beneath his feet. He loosened his tie and shielded his eyes from the afternoon sun to look at the tiny bits of pale blue sky visible through the countless tree leaves. He'd sneaked out of the office, escaping work- amongst other things- in hopes that the pleasant scenery would help him clear up his tired mind.

It had been a rough couple of months, for sure, and they were starting to take their toll. Recovering from the Kyoto debacle hadn't proved easy, yet Tsuzuki could already feel the wounds healing. If anything, he believed the whole ordeal had helped him grow stronger, rather than ruining the little peace he'd had before. His friendship with Hisoka had grown nothing if not deeper; they were both helping each other get through it and he thought they were doing a fine job at it. But it had still been quite a lot of work; tiring, demanding work, and he'd made a habit of taking little breaks during the day, some time to be alone and meditate about the way things were going.

Not everything was good. Not even close. If his relationship with Hisoka had improved, he'd have to say all his other relationships had decayed in equal proportion after Kyoto. Everyone treated him different now, as if they were walking on glass every time they were around him. He appreciated the concern he could see in everyone's eyes, but had a little trouble dealing with the apprehension he found there as well. He figured it would pass; eventually, people would see that he was not always on the brink, that he was not that frail. And then things would be back to normal; who knew? They could even get better.

There was one, though, one he'd counted amongst his closest friends, one he held dear above all others, who hadn't just turn awkward around him. He'd simply removed himself from his life altogether, and it tore him up inside.

Everyone had a theory; some believed Tatsumi might be sick, some said that the accountants were giving him hell and he was too busy, some were simply perplexed. Tsuzuki knew better though. The secretary didn't attend morning meetings anymore, didn't have breakfast, or lunch, in the break room with everyone else; every time someone saw him wondering around the halls, they would tell everyone else immediately, as if they had just seen a movie star or something. And Tsuzuki let them whisper and theorize, as the hole in his heart grew at an alarming rate. He knew he would have sounded self-centred if he were to tell anyone, but he knew, beyond doubt, that Tatsumi's conspicuous absence was his fault, and his alone.

He didn't really know what it was that he'd done, but it hurt to think that he'd finally managed to push the other away for good. After the conversation they'd had in the infirmary when he was recovering from his wounds, Tsuzuki had hoped that what had happened wouldn't destroy what it had taken them so long to build. For a while, they had began to mend the bridges of their relationship; they had been growing closer. For a fleeting moment, Tsuzuki had even hoped they would some day take that step they hadn't been able to take all those years ago. He, however, didn't remember a time when Tatsumi had been so distant. Now he feared there would be no turning back.

Finding a perfect spot under a tree, Tsuzuki sat down on the grass and leaned against the trunk. It was curious, but he thought he was starting to reconcile with that beautiful place. It had always seemed so unfair to him that they, that lived thanks to the death of others, got to enjoy such paradise. But now he had to admit that, with all the hardships they had to endure, it was nice to have such a place. It had become a sort of haven for him, though it was also tainted with nostalgia. His eyes caught sight of the garden table at a distance, where he and Tatsumi had shared a cup of tea so many times before. Not anymore; Tsuzuki had showed up everyday for the last few weeks, hoping that his suspicions would prove wrong, hoping he would turn his head and see the blue eyed man smiling down at him, berating him for sleeping on the ground, and everything would be ok again.

His eyelids began to feel heavy, drunk as he was on the eternal spring air. It didn't matter if he had to wait a hundred years, he would still go there, everyday, until Tatsumi showed up again, until he was ready to start over. With a sad smile, Tsuzuki drifted of to sleep.

* * *

Tatsumi left Konoe's office, closing the door behind him with a soft click. He had to smile at the memory of the chief's face when he told him. In all his years there, he'd never seen the old man so shocked. He supposed it was a bit of shocking news; he'd shocked himself when the thought had crossed his mind the first time. Now he couldn't think of anything that made more sense. 

He was tired, and not only because of the little sleep he was getting. He was tired of having to avoid everyone, of having to make a superhuman effort to keep up the façade every time he had to face someone. Sometimes, he was sure the reputation he'd made for himself would be the end of him. Everyone expected him to be cool-headed and controlled at all times; he had been, for the longest time. He'd denied his every feeling, pushed aside his own personal interests for the sake of the job. But no one could be so in control **all** the time; it simply wasn't possible.

Tatsumi **wasn't** alright; this was about Tsuzuki, after all, the one person who had the power to shake the foundations of his life and sanity. He was a wreck and he knew it. He couldn't sleep, he couldn't eat; the effort of keeping the act up alone was deteriorating his already battered nerves more than he could account for. But, unlike the amethyst eyed man, Tatsumi didn't have the luxury of break-downs.

Everything had started after Kyoto, of course. When else? Yes; for a split second that night, Tatsumi had found the prospect of Tsuzuki being gone forever to be slightly appealing. But that had been an aberration, one moment of irrationality before he realised the monstrosity of that thought and pushed it away from his mind. Now, his subconscious seemed to want to convince him that it had been his only reason for not wanting to rescue Tsuzuki from Touda's fire. It hadn't been; it couldn't have been called even a minor reason, or a reason at all. His nightmares, however, seemed to think otherwise. And as much as he didn't want to dignify those treacherous dreams with the slightest of considerations, he couldn't keep them out of his mind. They were destroying him, breaking down every wall he'd ever built to protect himself from certain- inappropriate- feelings and leaving him helpless. He couldn't even look at Tsuzuki in the face anymore, without feeling like a traitor and a murderer.

The secretary knew that he had to get a grip. He couldn't hide forever, as much as he wanted at the moment, like he had for the last couple of weeks. It couldn't be that hard, though, could it? To get a hold of those feelings. It wasn't like he'd never done it before. All he needed to do was find the time to think, remember why it was that he'd decided to stay away from Tsuzuki and his feelings for him in the first place, and he would be himself again. And he thought he'd finally come across a solution, as unheard of and uncanny as it seemed.

His feet drove him outside, where he knew **he** would be. After avoiding him for such a long time, it felt odd to know that he was going to see him, to talk to him, willingly. But there was no choice- no risk- this time, and he was secretly looking forward to it. He had to admit he'd missed him; he always missed him when he wasn't around, even if it had been ten minutes since the last time he'd seen him. But his urge to see Tsuzuki had been nothing compared to the shame and hurt he would feel when he was face to face with him, so he'd kept his distance. There was no need for that now.

It didn't surprise him in the slightest to find the violet eyed man asleep against a tree trunk. He knelt next to the man and brushed a few wild strands of ebony hair away from his beautiful face. Tsuzuki's skin was warm under his fingers, his cheeks flushed and his precious lips slightly parted. He looked like a child, so innocent and pure. His heart ached at the sight of his peaceful expression, he envied and craved that peace for himself, he wanted that expression to be his doing. The man stirred under his ministrations, leaning into the touch and letting out a pleased moan. Tatsumi hated himself for liking the effects his caresses were having on Tsuzuki so much, but he couldn't bring himself to pull his hand away. He did not deserve to touch such wonderful creature. The satisfaction he felt at Tsuzuki's reaction was wrong, perverted. What would Tsuzuki think of him if he knew what went on in his mind every time he touched him? What would Tsuzuki think of him if he knew what he dreamt of at night, when he wasn't dreaming of wanting his death?

Tatsumi withdrew his hand, sighing. Not five minutes had passed in Tsuzuki's presence and he was faltering again. There was no use in torturing himself like that. It was at that moment that he was finally sure his decision had been the right one. He shook Tsuzuki's shoulders gently and quickly slipped on the carefully rehearsed mask. The amethyst eyes fluttered open, focussing on him immediately, even before the man had time to wake up fully, and Tatsumi backed away slightly until he felt he was at a safe distance.

"Tatsumi?" he asked softly, disbelievingly.

Tatsumi just smiled politely at him.

"I've told you many times, you'll catch a cold if you sleep like this."

Tsuzuki's face lit up and he smiled brightly, straightening up. Tatsumi had to try hard not to wince. The amethyst eyed man seemed truly happy to see him and he realised it wasn't only himself he was hurting by ignoring the other man. He had hoped, in his sick, perverted mind, that Tsuzuki had missed him too, but now that he saw proof of it with his own eyes, he could only feel guilty. As if he didn't have enough reasons to feel guilty already.

"Did you bring tea?" Tsuzuki asked hopefully. The secretary shook his head.

"I just came here to tell you something, then I'm leaving."

Tsuzuki seemed disappointed at this, but his smile was set firm on his face.

"What did you want to tell me?" His expression changed to one of concern- fear, maybe?. "Are you gonna scold me for sneaking out of the office? Because I have you know Konoe said I could!"

He couldn't stop himself from chuckling slightly.

"Don't worry, I'm not here to scold you." He hesitated, trying to find a way to say what he wanted to say without sounding overly dramatic or worrying the other man; in short, he wanted to find a way to say it without showing what it meant to him. "I just wanted to say good bye."

Tsuzuki blinked in confusion.

"Good bye? Where are you going?" And then his features filled with something Tatsumi couldn't identify. It seemed like fear, but more intense, something aking to despair, but not quite. "Tatsumi, don't tell me you... you..."

Realising what the other man had interpreted, Tatsumi quickly raised a hand to wave him off.

"Don't be silly, it's nothing of the sort." Relief washed through Tsuzuki's face. "I'm just going on a trip. I came across this brochure of a lovely, not too expensive hotel by the sea and couldn't think of anything else afterwards. I'm just taking a bit of a break, if you will."

"A vacation?" Tsuzuki's expression pretty much matched that of Konoe's a while before. "But... but... you don't take vacations!!" the violet eyed man said, alarmed. "In all the years I've known you, you've never taken time off, aside of our yearly holiday! And even for that we had to convince you not to bring work with you!"

"Well," Tatsumi pushed his glasses up his nose. "That's it, precisely. In all these years, I've never taken a real vacation. I think it couldn't hurt, right?"

Tsuzuki seemed to consider it for a moment, but still seemed reluctant to believe it.

"Really? You're not pulling my leg?"

"No. I'm telling you the truth. Is it really that hard to believe?" he had to smile at Tsuzuki's adamant nod.

"Yes!" Tsuzuki sounded outraged, but he could see the laughter in his eyes.

"Anyway," Tatsumi shook his head, chuckling. "I'm leaving tonight and I wanted to tell you in person and say good bye."

"Tonight?" Tsuzuki opened his eyes wide in surprise. "Will you be gone for long?" the other man asked, dread creeping into his voice. Tatsumi frowned.

"I don't know. I'll come back when I feel... rested. I don't know how long that'll take."

"I see," Tsuzuki said sadly. He focussed his big violet eyes on him, and Tatsumi thought he could see a kind of understanding in them that made him nervous. Before he had time to prevent it, Tsuzuki had his arms around him, hugging him tight. "I'm gonna miss you," he whispered, and Tatsumi had to swallow the lump that formed in his throat.

"Yeah, well;" Tatsumi stammered, overwhelmed by the scent of the other's hair. "It's not like you'll never see me again." It was the truth; he was just going away for a while- hopefully a short while- yet that farewell seemed so definitive, so final. He knew that, once he came back, he would not feel the same for him. Perhaps that was it; he knew he couldn't come back if he still held those disgusting feelings, if his heartbeat still quickened every time he had Tsuzuki in his arms. He pulled away rather abruptly, though Tsuzuki didn't seem to notice- and if he did, he didn't show it- standing up. "Take care of yourself, will you?" His voice broke a little.

Tsuzuki only nodded, his gaze darkened with grief. Tatsumi didn't wait more than a second to turn around and walk away. It was the right thing to do, he repeated over and over again in his mind.

_**Tsuzuku**_

**_Nine reviews, niiiice!_**

**_Hugs to Zatken, BakayaroManiac, dodger-chan, JoriWinter, azdriel, Schatten Wolfendorf, makasarili, ManderNaner and specially to lyn. She's to blame for this, not I, heh heh._**

**_Ja Ne!!_**


	3. TWO

_**A/N: Hello people! I fear the last chapter was a horrible failure. Don't get me wrong, I know that Tatsumi wouldn't just go on vacation. I'm going somewhere with this, trust me. That, of course, doesn't mean you'll like the story, but you can at least give it a chance? We'll see.**_

_**Enjoy!**_

**DEAD RECKONING**

**CHAPTER TWO**

It wasn't like Tsuzuki to linger in the office after working hours. It was a miracle if he managed to stay the full nine hours he was supposed to actually be there. But since it seemed to be the day for acting out of character, he figured the world wouldn't come to an end if he was the last to leave, for a change. Still, it had been quite tricky to come up with a good excuse for not accompanying Hisoka home, as usual, without having him suspect more than he already did. And it wasn't that he couldn't trust the green eyed boy with the thoughts that were troubling him; he just wanted to make sure he wasn't being too suspicious before he passed on his concerns to someone else.

It just didn't sit well with him, as simple as that. Tatsumi's explanations had sounded reasonable enough. Had he been any other person- workaholic or not- he wouldn't have had a reason to doubt his words. He might have even accepted it from him- though, really, it was a little hard to believe- if Tsuzuki hadn't seen right through the other man's lie. It hadn't been more than a second in which those deep blue eyes had shown his true intentions, but it had been enough. Tatsumi wasn't just taking a vacation and he certainly didn't need rest. He was running away, from him; no doubt about it. And Tsuzuki could understand him, as much as it hurt; Enma knew he would have run away from himself if he'd been able. What he couldn't understand, however, was Tatsumi leaving like that. What could have compelled him to abandon everything that gave his life meaning- i.e.: work- to pack up and leave, spend money even, to do something he'd been doing quite well as it was while staying in Meifuu. It wasn't like Tsuzuki had looked for him when he knew he wasn't wanted.

So, Tsuzuki had doubted. At first, it hadn't been more than a whisper at the back of his mind, growing and growing until he could think of nothing else. It just didn't-make-sense! And since he hadn't been able to come up with a plausible explanation for the phenomena, he decided he'd do a bit of detective work.

He knew better than to go to Tatsumi's apartment looking for clues; he was well aware of which was Tatsumi's **real **home. He had waited until even the cleaning personnel had gone home before springing into action. There were only a few lights on- most of which he'd lit himself- and a profound silence all around. Half of it was that he had had the idea running around his brain for half a day, the other half, probably, the furtiveness of the whole deal, but Tsuzuki could feel his heart speeding up with excitement as he marched through the halls to Tatsumi's office.

The door was undoubtedly locked; the violet eyed man didn't even bother to try and open it, teleporting inside instead. Not wanting to risk getting caught, he'd carried a flashlight with him, so that he wouldn't have to turn on any- stronger- light. Tsuzuki looked around, a little baffled. He'd expected to find the place in some state of disarray; hearing that Tatsumi was going on vacation- and from his own lips, too- had somehow convinced him that the man had lost his mind completely and was going through some sort of psychotic phase. But the office was perfectly- pathologically- tidy, as usual.

Tsuzuki wasted no time, immediately going through a small stack of papers on the desk- already finished work, he noted- the man's daily planner and the garbage can, that hadn't yet been emptied because even the janitor knew the secretary's office was off-limits. There was nothing -at all- which resulted even more suspicious than if he'd found a zombie's signed confession of having snatched Tatsumi's body. What kind of person goes off on a trip he doesn't even know the length of without doing any kind of planning as to leave even the slightest of evidence? Not Tatsumi Seiichirou, for sure.

The amethyst eyed man slumped on Tatsumi's chair, trying to figure out what to do next. His face lit up when he noticed the desk drawers. Of course! Tatsumi wouldn't be so careless as to leave everything sprawled on his desk for everyone to see! Happy not to find it locked, Tsuzuki pulled top one open. There was nothing in it beside several old note books with a bunch of statistics he couldn't make sense of. The second and third weren't of much help either, other than to find out he and Watari wouldn't be getting a raise any time... ever. He stared at the bottom drawer with a mixture of hope and dread and took a deep breath. In any case, he decided as his hand gripped the handle, he wouldn't give up. He would turn Tatsumi's apartment upside down if he had to, until he could put his fears to rest.

To his surprise, the drawer was almost empty- emphasis on the 'almost'. All there was in it was a picture frame face down and a folded piece of paper. Tsuzuki didn't recognise the frame at first- it was quite cheap and common- but once he picked it up, a set of bittersweet memories filled his mind.

Tatsumi wasn't one for sentimentalism, but there had been one occasion- during an office Christmas party, if his memory served him right- when Watari had managed to take a picture of the two of them. Tsuzuki had come out looking a bit drunker than he'd actually been, as Tatsumi a little grumpier. Of course, he had a copy- he kept it in a special place on his nightstand- and though he hadn't known for sure until that moment whether or not Tatsumi had one of his own, he'd suspected it after the negatives had mysteriously disappeared. There it was, in that frame, with its colours a bit faded with time.

Tsuzuki put it back in the drawer, wondering whether he should feel good about his findings or not. On the one hand, it was kind of nice to think that Tatsumi had cared enough to keep it; on the other, he kept it face down in a drawer he obviously didn't use. Chances were he didn't even remember to have left it there.

The piece of paper, the only other item in there and his last hope, confirmed the theory of that drawer being nothing more than the last destination for things Tatsumi considered utterly useless. It was just a worn out piece of paper, that seemed to have belonged to some sort of brochure at some point. He considered the possibility of it being part of the brochure Tatsumi had mentioned that afternoon but, even if it was, it still didn't help him at all. It had been folded too many times, leaving deep marks on the surface, and it was obviously missing a big chunk. All that was left was a picture of an old, huge occidental house by the sea; a fairly beautiful house, but nothing he hadn't seen before. On the back there was an incomplete list- in English, no less- of what Tsuzuki thought were the services of some sort of inn- view of the ocean, private beach, room service, etc- but nothing that could hint as to where Tatsumi had gone. For all he knew, that wasn't even Japan.

Tsuzuki stared at the bit of paper with contempt, the representation of his failure. For all intents and purposes, it was rubbish. Tsuzuki would have thrown it away without a second thought, if he hadn't been certain Tatsumi would notice its absence and then kill him slowly when he got back. He'd notice; he always noticed.

He put it back and closed the drawer, huffing. He couldn't admit defeat so soon. He **would** check Tatsumi's apartment in the morning, even if he knew it was unlikely to find anything there. Perhaps he could find a way to ask Hisoka for help; the green eyed boy **was** way smarted than him. Maybe he could come up with an idea. Now he would just go home, eat something and hope his gut feeling wouldn't interfere with his sleep.

Tatsumi rested his suitcase on the ground and eyed the building in front of him with a slight frown. It had certainly looked better on paper. Maybe it was that it was a moonless night and the inn was only illuminated by a dim streetlamp- if you could even call that dirt road a street- or the fact that the town- the entire eight apples of it- had looked down right dead, but he thought the house looked haunted and, when you're a dead man on vacation, you tend to take those appreciations seriously.

There was something appealing, however, almost luring about it. He'd never been particularly fond of the sea- not that he had ever given much thought to that sort of thing- but he had to admit the sea breeze felt wonderful on his face. Mount Fuji was barely visible at a distance, but it was there, a tall shadow on the night sky, reminding him of just how close he actually was to the overwhelmingly urban Tokyo. Tatsumi took a deep breath; that place might have been a little ominous, but he trusted it would provide him with the peace and quiet he'd so desperately been needing. Besides, it wasn't like the kagetsukai would be intimidated by a few shadows, right? Picking up his scarce luggage, he made his way to the door.

It was curious, he thought, how he didn't feel all that strange about taking time off work, or about how spontaneous it had all been. He really hadn't thought about going on a trip, hadn't even made any sort of research on where to go; hell, he hadn't even made a reservation! And though he had no idea of how long he'd be there, he had barely packed at all. Maybe that nervous break down he'd been fearing had already struck?

In any case, he wasn't surprised when he walked into a deserted reception. The brochure from where he'd first learned about that place had been as promising as it had been old, and it wasn't even season for tourists. The only hint of there being someone other than him there was a small lamp on the front desk; its light was too dim for the incredibly high ceilings and dark décor, but it was enough to see where he was going. The floor creaked under his feet as he walked up to it and he could smell at least one layer of dust covering the furniture. In all fairness, the room was quite beautiful, posh yet not overdone. It didn't give the impression of being abandoned or decaying- though it obviously was in some degree- it just seemed... sad, for some reason.

Tatsumi rang the bell and waited for the manager to show up, but there was no reply. An idea crossed his mind and he frowned, ringing again a little more insistently; what if the place wasn't working as an inn anymore? He'd be stranded in the middle of nowhere with no means of getting back before morning and nowhere to spend the night. Finally, he heard the sound of soft, slow footsteps approaching and he was able to relax a little. He made a mental note to give the manager a piece of his mind and leaned against the counter.

The manager, he guessed, had to be one of those fat, lazy middle-aged men who went around wearing wife-beaters and an attitude. The man that came into the room a moment later, though, didn't meet any of Tatsumi's expectations. He couldn't have been a day over twenty five; his face- or the little Tatsumi could actually make out of it- suggested he was even younger than that, with clean, angular features and perfect skin, but his broad shoulders and well defined built broke the illusion. His thin dark hair fell in messy bangs over his face, making it impossible to see his eyes. Tatsumi thought the young man looked consumed; he was too skinny, but it was evident it was not the way he was meant to be, as his body showed signs of work-out, even if in the past, and he wasn't at all scrawny. Even though his clothes didn't appear to be dirty, the blue eyed man thought it very likely that he'd slept on them on at least one occasion. He **was** wearing a wife-beater, under a wrinkled dark shirt that hung loosely from his shoulders, and a pair of dark sweatpants.

The young man faced Tatsumi and said nothing, studying him closely and with what the secretary thought was apprehension in his expression. This, though it made him a little nervous, gave Tatsumi a chance to see the other man's eyes. Though the light was indeed to dim to make out their exact colour, he could tell they were clear. For a moment, he had the gripping sensation that they were purple, but he soon realised that had only been a figment of his imagination. What really caught his attention, however, was the fact that they looked swollen and puffy. Growing tired- and weary- of the man's shameless scrutiny, Tatsumi pushed his glasses up his nose.

"Good evening." He bowed his head politely. "I would like a room, if it's not too much trouble."

"Sure you do," the man whispered back, retrieving a book from under the desk. He then looked at Tatsumi, hesitantly. "There's an inn a few miles from here, you know?" His voice shook a bit. Tatsumi frowned, baffled at the other man's words.

"Are you trying to make me feel welcome?" he said a little sarcastically.

The young man looked down, looking a little embarrassed.

"I'm sorry if I sound rude, sir, but I'm the only one left here. I won't be cleaning your room or making you dinner. I could drive you there, if you want, though."

Tatsumi considered it for a moment. He hadn't left Meifuu to be waited on. He'd much rather tend to himself than have a stranger go through his stuff every morning, or worse, have to share his supposed down time with some loud family from abroad. The young man looked depressed enough so that he knew he wouldn't be a bother. He, however, really didn't seem to want him there. But Tatsumi had somehow warmed up to the idea of staying there and he wasn't about to let his plans be changed without a fight.

"I tell you what," Tatsumi said, taking out his wallet and a pen. "You give me a room, I'll pay you as much as I'd expected you'd charge me and I'll stay out of your way."

The young man stared at him, doubtful. In the end, he just sighed and opened the register for Tatsumi to sign.

"Welcome to The Silent Siren, mister..."

"Tatsumi Seiichirou." He extended his hand and the other man shook it.

"Saiga Kaede." He gave him a lopsided, unsure smile. "Maybe it won't be so bad to have a little company here, for a change."

_**Tsuzuku**_

_**The only good thing about getting few reviews, is that I get to answer them. Yay! (one has to look at the bright side of things, ne?)**_

_**dodger-chan: If I tell you where this is going, I'll spoil the surprise, I'm afraid. Thanks for gving it a shot, though. And I'm glad Tatsumi came out relatively IC even when he was acting so OOC! Hugs and thanks!**_

_**ManderNaner: You can ask all you want, I like questions, especially because I'm evil and not always answer them! Mwuahahahaha! Thanks for your review!**_

_**bitter green-tea: Yay! You really think Tatsumi came out realistic? And yes, the focus of this story is mainly Tatsumi. It'll be interesting to write him being the one on the edge, and Tsuzuki as the centered one, for a change. Thanks for reviewing!**_

_**BakayaroManiac: Hi dear! My e-mail is either or . Try with both if you want, though I don't check the second as much as I do the first. Did you really do some fandrawings? I love fandrawings!! Huggles you silly.**_

_**Ja ne!!**_


	4. THREE

_**A/N: Hello, people! Bad timing for updating, since you probably won't be able to review till Tuesday, lol. You could always send me an e-mai, 'blink-blink' Anyway, Tsu-chan, I think, acts a little weird in this chappy, ah, and everything in this chapter is necessary for the next, as pointless as it might seem.**_

_**Enjoy!**_

**DEAD RECKONING**

**CHAPER THREE **

Tsuzuki glanced around the room one more time before plopping down on the bed with a sigh of resignation. Tatsumi's place wasn't big- just a small living room and an even smaller bedroom- so it hadn't really taken him long to go through everything, but he was still exhausted, and it had been a lot of work for nothing. Even when he'd known it was farfetched, he'd still hoped to find even the slightest clue. All he'd found, however, were more reasons to question Tatsumi's departure. Like his closet, for instance, that was practically full. He hadn't taken a single suit with him, as far as Tsuzuki could tell. What had he taken then? It was common knowledge that the blue eyed man did not own a lot of casual clothes, certainly not enough outfits for an undeterminably long holiday. And he hadn't even emptied his fridge! Either Tsuzuki had seriously misinterpreted Tatsumi's words, or he was being chased by the mob, or some such.

He rolled over to his side and groaned. Now he was really out of ideas. For all he knew, Tatsumi could be in danger and there was nothing he could do to help him or even confirm it. He'd spent most of the night trying to convince himself that he was overreacting but, in the end, his mind had only managed to come up with numerous scenarios, some of which were simply ridiculous and none of them at all encouraging. If he had to be completely honest, he'd have to say he was starting to resent Tatsumi. He could have just told him, flat out, that he wanted him to stay away from him for a while- or forever, it didn't matter. He could have simply shut Tsuzuki out completely, instead of ignore him for weeks just to pop up to say he was going in such a conspicuous way. Why couldn't he just be straight forward?! For once!

It was always the same with Tatsumi; Tsuzuki could never be sure of anything that had to do with him. He would catch the other man staring at him and, for a moment, he'd think there was something to those gazes then, a split second later, Tatsumi would look away and just pretend nothing had happened; he would lean closer to him, stare at him with so much tenderness, filling Tsuzuki's heart with hope, and then he would just wipe some food of his face and say something politely humiliating; they would be starting to get along, to grow closer, and the asshole would just push him away.

The violet eyed man sat up abruptly, slamming his fists into the mattress with a determined expression that didn't really match his true feelings. 'To hell with him,' he thought, not daring to speak the words out-loud, lest he see himself forced to hang on to them. "If he doesn't want anything to do with me, then I don't want anything to do with him!!' Seriously, though, just how much of that crap could he take? Tatsumi might have very well been sunbathing on a gorgeous beach miles away from any type of civilization while he was there, worrying like a moron. Just the thought of that particular possibility made Tsuzuki want to get up and trash Tatsumi's sock drawer or something. Sweet, sweet revenge!

Tsuzuki lay back down. He was tired, and not just from Tatsumi's antics- though if you considered why he'd been sleep-deprived in the first place, and why he'd had to get up extra early, you could also pin that down on the blue eyed man. The bed wasn't that comfortable, but it wasn't painful either. He curled around Tatsumi's pillow and sighed wistfully. He could really stay there for hours. It was ironically comforting to be in Tatsumi's bed, even if he'd had to wait for the other man to escape town and sneak into his apartment to end up there- which, really, spoke volumes of his love life. Tatsumi probably changed the bedclothes twice a day and he'd never been one to use anything remotely similar to cologne, yet the bed still smelled like him. It was so faint and so personal at the same time. It smelled a little like coffee, a little like paper and a little like cheap soap, all under a distinct aroma that was only Tatsumi's. it was wonderful and enough for Tsuzuki to forget his previous anger. He felt his eyes drifting close of their own accord.

Catching himself in time, he reached out for the phone on the nightstand. There was no way in hell he was going to work without sleeping a little bit and it wasn't like anyone would really miss him, as far as workload was concerned. It would be a miracle if they assigned him with any work at all. Another of the Post-Kyoto sequels, and one that he didn't usually protest. With a bit of effort, he pushed himself up on one elbow and dialled the number. As soon as it started ringing, his head fell back onto the pillow and he stared dumbly into space, as most people do while on the phone.

"Moshi, moshi?" came Hisoka's raspy and grumpy reply.

"'Soka?" Tsuzuki asked needlessly. "It's me."

"It's you, who?" Hisoka barked, annoyed. Apparently, the boy hadn't woken up fully yet. Well, it was a little early. Tsuzuki smirked.

"Is anyone calling you 'Soka without my permission?"

He could almost hear the boy's green eyes rolling upward.

"Baka."

"Ah! See? I knew you'd recognise me!!" he joked. He didn't give Hisoka time to reply; he didn't want his eardrums to suffer. "I was just calling you to let you know I won't be going to work before noon, at the very least."

"I see," Hisoka said carefully. "And why is that?"

"I had an awful night. I'm just staying in bed for a while longer."

"Liar," Hisoka shot back, rather angrily, taking Tsuzuki by surprise. "You're not even at home."

"What?!" Tsuzuki gasped, horrified at being found out; though it was more out of habit than anything; he hadn't really been lying, had he? "'Soka! Don't tell me you can also read my mind through the phone!"

"I have caller ID, baka."

"Oh!" Tsuzuki laughed nervously, feeling a bit stupid. "So," he hesitated. "You know where I am?" As much as he hadn't been lying about sleeping in, he really didn't want to get caught trespassing private property, did he?

Hisoka took a moment to reply.

"I don't know the number," he said finally, though he didn't sound too convincing. "Are you in trouble?" he finished softly.

Tsuzuki smiled broadly, hearing the obvious concern on his friend's voice.

"Nope!" he said cheerfully. "I just can't tell you where I am at the moment. I'll tell you later, ok? I wasn't lying though. I really am just going to sleep."

"Ok," Hisoka sighed in mock-defeat. "I'll tell Konoe. But don't even think I'll do your share of the work."

Tsuzuki couldn't help chuckling at that, even Hisoka let out a small snort as he realised what he'd said.

"Work? Yeah, sure. Why not?"

"Yeah. I'm seriously considering playing hooky myself," Hisoka said with a serious tone that had Tsuzuki laughing loudly.

"Go 'Soka!" he cheered. "You'll turn up to be a great disciple!"

"In your dreams, baka. Which reminds me," He took a deep breath. "I should let you sleep and head off. Some of us are still showing up on time.

"Thanks, 'Soka," Tsuzuki said in earnest. "See ya later."

"Later."

As soon as he hung up, he fell deeply asleep.

_Somewhere in the back of his mind, Tatsumi knew he was dreaming. It was one of those dreams in which you feel as aware s if you were still awake and, since he hadn't seen or felt any of the usual traits of his nightmares, he'd decided to go along with it._

_He was in his bathroom, or some generic bathroom he'd associated with his own. He didn't quite remember how he'd got there, but he instinctively knew why he was there, and it was with that realisation that he'd started to suspect he was dreaming. He was naked, his body covered with sweat and his muscles more relaxed than he could remember them ever being. He felt drowsy and tired, yet utterly sated. There was only one explanation, he'd done it, and it could only be in dreams that he'd do such a thing and openly admit he'd liked it. _

_And he'd liked it; the struggle, the fight for dominance he inevitable won, the body underneath him wriggling madly. It had been frenetic, so violent and so beautiful at the same time, and he'd felt a sort of morbid fascination with the other's every whimper and moan, with every plea and contortion of his face. He'd thrived on it. _

_Something wasn't quite right, though. He was staring at his reflection in the mirror, trying to figure out what was off with it, and the more he studied his image, the more dirty he felt; both physically and emotionally. Perhaps that would have been a good time to shake off the dream, to wake up, but he was already to wrapped up in it. Blindly, he turned on the faucet and begun scrubbing his hands viciously, trying desperately to remove the other from his skin. _

_His eyes scanned every inch of the face before him, but he couldn't focus his mind on solving the puzzle, as his attention kept diverting to his hands, even while he wouldn't look at them. He wouldn't be able to think, he knew, as long as that hot, sticky fluid clung to him like glue. But he just couldn't wash it off; no matter the amount of water or soap he used, no matter how hard he scrubbed. Hissing in both frustration and pain, he finally managed to tear his eyes from the mirror to look down. Tatsumi gasped at what he saw, as it all clicked. He'd half expected his hands to be smeared with white, but it was reed; blood; **his** blood, all over his hands, arms, **everywhere**. _

_He remembered then, what the struggle had really been about, what the whimpers had really meant. He'd really done it. He understood, the; his eyes shot back up to his reflection and he saw himself, his silverfish white hair, his mismatched irises and that positively insane smirk on his face. _

'_You're not that different than me, are you?' asked his reflection. _

_Tatsumi stumbled backwards, shaking his head, feeling his lungs burn as he found it harder and harder to breathe. And, just as it happens in dreams. He was suddenly back in the bedroom, in front of the blood soaked bed, in front of Tsuzuki's torn form. He fell to his knees. Those lifeless purple eyes stared right into him, questioning, hurt. In his hand was the knife, coated with the crimson fluid. Tatsumi tried to scream, but no sound came from his throat. _

_He'd really done it._

Tatsumi cried out hoarsely and sat bolt upright in bed, panting. For a moment, he thought e could still feel Tsuzuki's blood on him; he rubbed his hands against the sheets, as he sobbed uncontrollably, his mind still too fogged by the nightmare to let his inhibitions towards the act stop him. Soon- though surely not as soon as he'd liked- his mind cleared out and he realised he was already awake. While this didn't stop him from crying, it sure helped him to calm down considerably.

It had been, by far, the worst nightmare to date. There was a big difference between dreaming about letting Tsuzuki die and killing him himself, even if it didn't seem like it. A **big** difference. It was no surprise that he was covered in cold sweat; it was no surprise he felt an urgency to take a shower. He jumped out of bed, shrugging off his pyjamas as he made a run for the bathroom. Once there, he took particular care not to look in the general direction of the mirror. Lucky for him, he was Japanese; one day without shaving wouldn't hurt him.

It wasn't until he was under the stream of hot water that his breathing seemed to go back to normal, if only barely, and he was able to analyse what had just happened. What the fuck had just happened?! He'd never, **ever**, thought about ending Tsuzuki's life! And yeah, sure, he was capable of murder, if he was properly motivated, but slaughtering was hardly his style. It had been just a stupid dream that had had as much to do with his emotions as if he'd had a wet dream about Konoe. And he would have been able to disregard it, if it hadn't been for a tiny detail.

It hadn't been an accident that his subconscious had compared him to the good doctor. The more he thought about it, the more he found he was alike Muraki in many aspects. They shared the same unyielding determination, the same cool-headed nature, the same obsession. Only one thing kept him from going mad with self-loathing, and that was that he'd never force himself on anyone; but now he wasn't sure if that wasn't just so because of his aversion to all things sexual.

It didn't really matter, though. He didn't have to like himself, he just needed to keep himself under control and that was why he was there. He wouldn't accomplish anything if he paid attention to dreams and the like. He would not, **could** not, give his mind any credit at the moment. He was in the process of repressing major issues, after all; of course the bitch would fight back. He would win in the end, though. He always did.

Tatsumi stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist. He still avoided his reflection, just for good measure, but he was feeling a bit better. He walked back into the bedroom, drying his hair lazily, and pulled his suitcase from under the bed. He stared at the neatly folded clothes, trying to decide- as he had the night before- if it was worth unpacking. Eventually he just picked up a white shirt and a pair of kakis and let the decision for later. As he dressed, he couldn't help gazing out the huge window at the side of the bed; he certainly wasn't used to waking up with the sight of the sea in front of him, red from the rising sun. He walked closer to the glass to better admire the view while he finished buttoning up his shirt. It was still a little early; Tsuzuki was most definitively sleeping, but the rest were probably starting their daily routines.

It was still a little early; Tsuzuki was most definitively sleeping, but the rest were probably starting their daily routines. It was so weird to know he wouldn't be joining them that morning. How would he handle a day without nothing to do? His fingers were already itching for a calculator, just at the thought of it. Who would see to it that Tsuzuki and Watari didn't over-budget? Would anyone remember to make sure there were always good pastries in the break room? His breathing hitched a little at the image of the entire department collapsing after just few hours without him.

He was starting to seriously consider picking up his stuff and running back when something caught his eye that made the thought fly out the window, literally. Down at the beach, he saw a figure strolling across the shore. It was too far away for him to distinguish them clearly and the sun, practically behind this person, made it even harder, but Tatsumi guessed it had to be the inn-keeper, since he doubted there were any other living creatures for miles around. He was a little surprised to see him up already, considering the state he'd been the night before, but it was very likely the young man simply hadn't slept at all.

Tatsumi turned to leave, hoping he wouldn't have much trouble in finding the coffee. Maybe the young man had even made a fresh pot? He only paused to retrieve his dirty pyjamas to take them down to wash and he was out the door. He almost yelps, startled, when he almost bumps into Kaede on his way out, as the young man himself left the adjacent room. Now, that was odd for at least two reasons. One, there was no way he'd come back from the beach, climbed the stairs, got into a room and walked out in the time between Tatsumi's sighting and that moment, but that could be easily explained; the man he'd seen hadn't been him. What bothered Tatsumi a little was that he knew, for a fact, that Kaede's bedroom was downstairs. The young man had told him this the night before in case he needed anything. And while the inn was his, and he was free to come and go as he pleased, the guilty look on the man's face when he realised Tatsumi had caught him suggested there was more to it than a morning run.

Kaede's eyes- they were a greyish green, he noted- darted nervously around, as if he was looking for an excuse for something, giving Tatsumi even more reason to believe he'd walked into something fishy. Still, the blue eyed man didn't feel at all threatened by either Kaede or his secret, just curious and slightly amused, so he decided to give the young man a break, for the time being.

"Good morning, Saiga-san," he said with a pleasant tone. "I was just heading down for breakfast."

Kaede nodded and took a deep breath, calming himself a little.

"Good morning. Did you find the room to your liking?"

"Indeed," Tatsumi said as he and Kaede began climbing down the stairs. "This place is very beautiful, and the view is just breathtaking. It's a wonder it hasn't become the most popular spot in the area."

Kaede lifted his chin proudly with the hints of a smug smile tugging at the corners of his lips, and Tatsumi thought he looked more alive for a moment.

"It was. There was a time when it was practically impossible to get a room. The place was packed up with tourists from all over, and they always left wanting more."

Tatsumi wasn't at all surprised to hear this; the brochure had been that of a successful place, not the ghost it had turned into. It did stirred his curiosity even more, though.

"What happened, then? I doubt a place like this can simply go out of style."

The young man lowered his eyes sadly and his entire demeanour seemed to darken.

"Life happened," he whispered, and didn't say another word the rest of the way down.

Now Tatsumi wasn't just curious, he was set out to find out what was going on.

_**Tsuzuku **_

_**Reviews!!!**_

_**dodger-chan: they are short, aren't they? Especially compared to 'A smile...' They'll get longer as we go, I gather. All I can say to account for Tatsumi's behaviour is, there's always a reason for everything! Huggles!**_

**_bitter_** **_green-tea: Ah, perhaps I'll change the genre later, but that only if I can't make it horrible enough, lol. We'll see as we go. Hugs and thanks for the review!_**

_**fireun: I'm glad you like the characterizations! And yeah, I thought a change in dynamics would work nicely, provided I managed to do it right. Huggles to you!**_

**_Schatten Wolfendorf: Ahoy! Que es eso de los piratas? Cuéntame, cuéntame! Ah, te quería preguntar, vos tenès un blog? Es que estaba aburrida y me busque a mi misma en internet- estaba muuuuy aburrida- y encontré este sitio tuyo. Que bonito todas las cosas lindas que decís! 'blush' Y no se, capaz que se enoje Tatsumi, pero creo que lo va a perdonar - Besos!_**

_**Zatken: Never apologize for being tortured by school. I myself have to get ready for finals, but at least, as from today, I don't have to go to classes anymore. YAY! Let's hope you keep liking this story. Hugs!**_

_**panatlantic: I'll go to great lengths to provide you guys with your fix of- in this case, heh heh- Tatsu goodness. Hugs!!**_

_**Bakayaro Maniac: hey, was it you who sent me a few 'A smile' drawings? Umph, I can never remember everyone's other names, and then I feel awful about it. Anyway, I'm still not sure it 'something' will happen, if you know what I mean, with Tatsumi and Kaede, but if it does, it'll be a little more complicated than that. Hugs!**_

**_lyn: Hola! Gracias por dejar review, aunque ya me hubieras inflado el ego el finde. Casi no actualizo esta semana, por que se me escaparon mis perritos T.T, pero por suerte ya los encontré!! Nos hablamos por eso del otro fin de semana? Ah, y gracias por las palabras de aliento; a un escritor nunca le viene mal un poco de eso!! Besos a vos y a Sei, decile al monstruo que lo quiero aunque no me deje estornudar!_**

_**Ja Ne!**_


	5. FOUR

**_A/N: Hello people. Here's the fourth chapter. Sorry it took so long, finals got in the way, but finals are finally over, heh heh. Do you still remember this? If you do, then well, thanks for your patience!! And I hope everyone had a wonderful x-mas. Happy New Year, everyone!!_**

**_Enjoy!_**

**DEAD RECKONING**

**CHAPTER FOUR **

He wasn't really asleep; he could feel the sun hitting his face so he was vaguely aware of the time. He wasn't quite awake, either, so he didn't really care that it was well after the hour he'd told Hisoka he'd be at the office. The bed was just too comfortable to get up.

Since his mind wasn't working at its fullest, his thoughts were rather random and had a tendency to turn into images that could have passed as dreams if they had lasted a bit longer. A moment before he'd been wondering about Tatsumi and trying to guess what the other man could be doing. Before he realized, he was imagining some generic beach, with a half-naked Tatsumi lying on the sand, his skin a few shades darker and glistening under the sun. In spite of the shampoo-advertising implications, he found the scene to be mouth-watering. As much as he would have liked to hold onto that particular image, he noticed a huge wave coming their way; it had no reason for being- the last thing he'd been thinking about was the sea- and he would have cursed the thing's timing if it hadn't been scary as hell. Instead of running the other way, though, he had the ridiculous impulse to save dream-Tatsumi. The blue-eyed man had got up and started running towards him. As fast as it had appeared, the wave was on top of them. Tsuzuki heard the other call out his name the moment it hit them and, darn, was the water cold!

Tsuzuki bolted upright on the bed, gasping for air and still not quite sure of where he was. If it had all been a dream, he thought confusedly as he rubbed his eyes and tried hard to control his ragged breathing, if he wasn't really drowning, after all, why was he soaking wet?

"Baka," said an unmistakable voice from beside him. "It's about time."

He turned his head to Hisoka, who was standing next to him, glaring hard and holding a rather large- and recently emptied- glass. Tsuzuki gasped.

"'Soka! You're the wave?!" he exclaimed, as surprised as he was outraged. "Why did you have to interrupt!?"

The boy wrinkled his nose.

"What are you talking about?"

When he realized what he'd been reproaching him, Tsuzuki blushed slightly.

"Never mind," he then remembered his state, and the outrage was back. "What the hell was that for?!" he whined, "I took a bath this morning, thank you, and I'm sure Tatsumi won't appreciate your way of treating his sheets!"

Hisoka shrugged, uninterested.

"It's three thirty," he deadpanned. "You should have gone to work three hours ago."

The violet-eyed man opened his eyes wide at this, and checked Tatsumi's alarm clock to confirm his partner's words.

"Oh, wow, I really overslept, didn't I?" The boy's reply came in the form of something that sounded a lot like 'duh', but was too soft to make out. Tsuzuki then realized something and frowned. "'Soka?" he asked carefully. "How did you know where to find me?" He wasn't so sure he wanted to know the answer, though; that kid could be so scary sometimes!

"Watari," Hisoka answered simply. Tsuzuki was about to throw a tantrum about mad scientists and illegally placed tracing-chips but the boy, who must have seen it coming, held up a hand to stop him. "I just showed him the number from where you called me this morning and he told me. Now," he focused a pair of accusing green eyes on him, hard enough to make him squirm in fear. "What are you doing, sleeping on Tatsumi's bed?"

The older man blushed for a second time in as many minutes.

"I… uhm…" he mumbled. "I came here to… er… searchhisapartment," he rushed out, looking down in embarrassment.

"Huh?"

"I came to search his apartment, OK?!" This time his tone was a little defensive. Hisoka couldn't stop himself from chuckling, though Tsuzuki thought he made a decent job at hiding it.

"What are you, some sort of obsessed stalker now?" he said incredulously.

"I'm not!!" Tsuzuki cried out, mortified. "I just wanted to see… I was looking for… ah, crap…" He gulped, feeling completely cornered. "I'm worried about him, and I… "

Hisoka frowned.

"Yeah, I know what you mean."

"You do?" he asked, hopeful and a little too eager. At Hisoka's nod, he jumped on his seat. "Oh, that's great!" He did a double take. "OK, maybe not 'great', but it's still nice to know I'm not crazy!"

Hisoka smirked.

"Oh, you **are** crazy. You're just right about this one." He sobered up. "Something's up with him; I've felt it."

Tsuzuki blinked, trying to process what he'd just heard. **Everyone **knew Hisoka couldn't feel **anything** from Tatsumi. This was far worse than he'd imagined! He swallowed hard.

"What..." he mumbled, "what did you feel?"

"Well," The boy paused to consider it. "It was very mild and I haven't even seen that much of him."

"Was it... you know," Tsuzuki took a deep breath, "Was it bad?" In his mind, he added _'Did I do this? Does he hate me?'_

Hisoka gave him an odd look and Tsuzuki feared he'd thought too loudly. A moment later, the boy huffed and threw his hands in the air.

"I don't know. It wasn't good, I guess... But I can't be sure. I'm not sure I could have recognized it if I'd had time to study it."

Tsuzuki sighed in defeat. He didn't know why he kept asking, kept trying to find out more. What could he do if he knew, for certain, what was wrong with the other man? It wasn't like he could actually fix it and it was probably his fault to begin with. He should leave Tatsumi alone, let him enjoy his Holiday and let him forget about him. Hisoka interrupted his thoughts, sitting next to him and clearing his throat.

"You could always try to find out where he went," the young man suggested in a quiet tone.

"And how am I supposed to do that?" Tsuzuki spat, frustrated, but immediately regretted the harsh tone. "Sorry," he whispered sheepishly, to what the younger shinigami only grunted. "Seriously, though; I've already tried everything. He obviously doesn't want to be found. There's nothing I can do."

Hisoka shook his head.

"You haven't tried the bus station, have you?"

"The bus station?" Tsuzuki repeated dumbly. "What about it?"

He hadn't thought it was possible to annoy the green eyed boy even further but he rolled his eyes yet again and he realized, somehow, he'd managed. And he didn't even know how!

"For starters," Hisoka said, exasperated, "you know he'd never catch a plane or rent a car. It's too expensive; two," He held up a hand to count with his fingers. "You know the date and approximate hour he took off; three, he wouldn't go to an overpopulated place, or a hot tourist spot, not if he wants to rest; four, the clerk would probably remember his face. He does make an impression on people. Think about it, with all that information, you could probably find out where he went. All we have to do is go to the bus station- and probably the train station too- and ask the right questions. Don't you think?"

Tsuzuki was dumbstruck by the boy's flawless logic. It sounded so obvious coming from him he had to feel annoyed with himself for not having figured it out on his own. He gaped for a moment or two before answering, as he felt the color creeping up to his cheeks.

"I don't think so," he whispered, awed. Then he remembered his dream and Tatsumi's words the day before and he let out a little squeal, startling his partner. "Oh!" he exclaimed excitedly. "I know he's gone to some beach, or something!" Which, being as they **were** on an island, wasn't very specific, but it would help them narrow it down.

Hisoka stood up and needlessly dusted his pants.

"C'mon," he said. "Dry yourself and meet me downstairs." He began walking away but, as soon as he reached the door, he turned around with a scowl on his face. "And don't forget to bring a picture of him, baka."

Tsuzuki just beamed and rushed to the bathroom. Maybe things weren't as bad as he'd thought.

* * *

After a long walk on the beach and a completely unnecessary nap back at the inn once the sun had become too strong for his inexperienced skin, Tatsumi found himself with half the day still ahead of him and absolutely nothing to do, nowhere to go and no one to talk to. At first, as claustrophobic as his situation made him feel, a part of him thought it was liberating. Some people got their thrills out of bungee jumping, he had free time. It was a very small part of him, though. Two hours of doing nothing but lay in bed counting the cracks of the ceiling and he'd started to panic again. How did Tsuzuki manage to be so lazy? He thought he would go mad with boredom! 

Many a time, while working on something dull and alienating, he'd kept himself sane by thinking of all the things he would have like to be doing at that moment. Now that he had nothing else to stop him, he couldn't remember a single one of them. And he was supposed to live like that for how long?

Desperate times call for desperate measures. Tatsumi, going against all reason and ignoring the voice in his mind that pleaded with him not to ac any weirder than he already was, did the unthinkable; he got out of bed and decided to look around for a TV set. He wasn't **that** lost, though; he wouldn't start watching talk shows and soap operas just because he was bored; maybe the news or a good documentary. Even the weather channel stood a chance, under the circumstances.

There was a problem, though. He had no idea of where the TV was and Kaede wasn't around for him to ask him. He had gone off to town as soon as they'd finished breakfast, arguing that his fridge wasn't equipped to sustain two people- especially if one of them was used to three meals a day- and hadn't returned since. At least he knew he wouldn't find one ion the kitchen or the reception, and that was pretty much all he'd seen of the house. He figured he would start from the bottom floor and work his way up; if his room didn't have a TV, he assumed the others wouldn't, either.

So he went back to the receiving area to begin his search. Between there and the kitchen was a long hallway with several closed doors he hadn't bothered to ask about that morning. The night before, Kaede had come from there. His bedroom wasn't there, and Tatsumi doubted he'd been in the kitchen, unless spending time around food you have no intention to eat while on an empty stomach was a new form of meditation/torture. He knew the young man had to have come from some place else and, since depressed people seemed to be fond of watching TV, he believed he was going in the right direction.

He opened the first door to his right and found some sort of storage room, stuffed with boxes of all sizes and other kinds of useless junk. The room desperately needed a good vacuum, he thought, coughing, and moved on to the next room. This one seemed to have been some sort of diner at some point; there were two very large tables with their chairs and some paintings on the walls, all of them covered with white, dusty sheets. There was also a huge window with a gorgeous view of the ocean and Tatsumi thought, for the nth time, what a pity it was that the place wasn't working anymore.

As soon as he opened the third door, he knew he'd hit the jackpot. His first clue was the noticeable lack of dust attacking him the moment he stirred the vitiated air, as it had happened with the other two. In fact, the air there smelled cleaner than anywhere else in the house. The blinds were shut so his eyes needed a couple of seconds to adjust and actually see the couch in the middle of the room, in front of a tall piece of furniture- much like a closet- in which, he guessed, the TV probably was. As it was, though, once he walked in and turned on the light, he forgot all about his previous plans.

The walls were covered with bookshelf after bookshelf packed with books, picture frames and videotapes. He immediately realised he wasn't supposed to be there; half the books were actually photo albums- one of which was lying open on the floor next to the couch-, every picture in display was a personal snapshot and there were also a number of souvenirs decorating the shelves that gave the room an aura of melancholy and sacredness. This was a sort of haven for Kaede and he probably wouldn't appreciate him snooping around. Not that he had any real intention to leave, though.

He picked up the photo album first- the one on the floor- and closed it to look at its cover. It was a really nice brown leather cover with the words '_Summer '99' _engraved in gold. Tatsumi had never been a nosy person, but he just couldn't resist looking through it. On the first page were a pair of amateur, blurry shots of road signs. One said _'Tokyo 20 miles' _, the other _'Ibaraki 15 miles'. _That was all. Tatsumi frowned at this; who would waste film on something so pointless? The second page wasn't very different; all there was, was a picture of a red Land Rover. Under it, someone had written _'Jiyuu on her first trip'_.What kind of people nametheir cars, anyway?

He was surprised by what he found on the next page. It wasn't really shocking, per se. They were just a few candid shots of Kaede. What had Tatsumi's eyebrows rising was how different the young man looked. First of all, he had at least ten extra pounds on him. He was dressed in a rather… colourful outfit, with a pair of torn blue jeans and a batiked T-shirt. He was wearing green sunglasses that couldn't conceal the glint in the boy's eyes. In the first picture Tatsumi could see he was winking at the person taking the picture, as he held two fingers in a victory sign with the most ridiculous grin on his face, while in the second one, he was pointing at yet another road sign- this time announcing their proximity to Fukushima- with the grin still in place. He looked happy, elated, and it stirred something within Tatsumi that the man just couldn't understand.

Tatsumi turned the page reluctantly. What he found there made him hiss inexplicably. This time, Kaede had his arm draped around a taller, slightly older man while he obviously held up the camera with his free hand. The other man looked annoyed and Tatsumi found his expression rather familiar, though he thought it was more than just his expression what he could recognise in him. Again, someone had written something under it- probably Kaede himself; it said _'Katsuhiko being a bitch'_ with a smiling face drawn next to the phrase.

The blue eyed man stared at that picture for a very long time, not being able to decide why it was so interesting to him but also unable to tear his eyes from it. It wasn't until he heard a car approaching that he regained his will power. It could be no other than the inn keeper and he'd better get out of there soon or he'd be in trouble. He made sure to leave everything as he'd found it, turned off the light and rushed out.

By the time he reached the reception, the front door opened and the young man staggered inside. Tatsumi was about to say he'd just gone to the kitchen for some water- to cover his as, of course- but Kaede didn't seem to notice his presence. As in slow motion, he closed the door and lingered there, gripping the handle, for almost a full minute before turning around and walking towards him. Tatsumi detected a slight sway in his step. The young man was drunk.

Kaede stopped in front of him, looked up at him and just stood there, looking confused, for a long while. The shinigami didn't know how to react. A part of him couldn't have cared less about his state. He barely knew him and, if he wanted to drink the equivalent of the pacific ocean in liquor, it was none of his business. Another part of him, though, felt a lot like when knew Tsuzuki was crying in the other room; he wanted to help, but he didn't know how, and it filled him with despair. The young man looked so lost… almost as lost as Tsuzuki when… Tatsumi felt his throat closing. Was it his fault? It was ridiculous to think it, yet he couldn't help feeling the young man was like that because of him.

Before he could do or say anything, Kaede shook his head, let out a long sigh and walked right past him. Tatsumi, dumfounded, followed him with his gaze. Sure enough, he walked into the room he'd just been in, confirming his theories and arising a whole new set of questions. What was going on? Why did he care at all? Now he knew, for sure, he could endure the long, tedious hours of nothingness, as long as he got to find out what had happened to that once happy kid.

* * *

Konoe's tea-cup made a soft clicking sound when he rested it on its plate and the familiar noise brought a bit of comfort to his tired mind; the kind of comfort you can only get from those little routines that let you know, no matter how upside-down the world seems to be at the moment, things are never that bad. In front of him, Hakushaku-sama gave Watson-sama directions to bring some more pastries to the table. The decrepit old servant struggled with his short stature to pick up the empty plate from the table and scooted away. That was the Castle of candles for you, always the same. And boy, did he need that reassurance. The Earl picked up his tea with two gloved fingers and waited till his servant was out of earshot. 

"And he took off, just like that?" he said in a slight disbelieving tone, picking up the conversation where they'd left it. Konoe nodded resignedly.

"Just like that, with no mention of where he was going or when he'll be back."

Hakushaku stared at him for a moment- the only evidence of that being the mask pointing directly at him- and, after sipping his tea slowly, leaned forward as if to confide in him.

"You don't think he's…" he hesitated, "flipped out, do you?"

Konoe shrugged helplessly. He'd thought about it, about Tatsumi loosing his battle with time. He had to think about it every time a shinigami started acting strange. Enma knew Tsuzuki and himself had had a rough time keeping their wits about them and, in all his years, he'd seen many shinigami breaking only after half the time Tatsumi had endured. Coming from someone else's lips, though, it did sound a bit exaggerated.

"I don't think so. I wouldn't mention anything Enma just yet. He has been working twice as much as he used to, and he used to work a lot to begin with. He's probably just tired, as he said."

"That's true," the Earl conceded. "Ever since Kyoto, he's been working for two. Or three, as it is. While we're at it," the invisible man began, and Konoe could detect some level of lechery in his voice, so he knew what was coming. "How is my precious little angel doing?"

The chief didn't even flinch at the Earl's 'peculiar' way of addressing Tsuzuki this time, perhaps because the mention of him took the conversation to more pleasant topics.

"Actually," he began in a much lighter tone. "Tsuzuki is doing great. So is Kurosaki-kun. It seems they have come out stronger from that awful ordeal. I dare say they'll be back to work in no time."

"Really?" Hakushaku exclaimed, delighted. "That's really great news!" The man shook his head. "If only I'd known this a week ago, though." He finished a little dramatically. Konoe frowned in confusion.

"Why a week ago?"

The man waved a gloved hand dismissively.

"Oh, it's just that Tatsumi-san came here to drop off some files and I had this potential case that fell into Tsuzuki's jurisdiction and…"

"A case?" Konoe said a little too loudly, showing his surprise. "What kind of case? Tatsumi never mentioned anything about a case."

The Earl laughed, a little nervous at his friend's reaction.

"It was nothing, really; just some anomalies that needed to be sorted out. He probably finished before he had a chance to tell you about it."

Konoe thought about it for a moment. It wasn't like Tatsumi to hide work-related information. About all other aspects of his life, he was as cryptic as a hieroglyphic- at least he **thought** he was- but keeping things to yourself at the work place was not efficient. Then again, maybe it really had been just a check up; maybe it really hadn't been worth mentioning. He wasn't sure, though. There was something about the whole thing that smelled rotten to him, and he was usually right about his gut feelings.

"You don't happen to remember the details, do you?" Konoe asked, without much hope for a satisfying answer. The Earl just shrugged.

"That's what the files are for. I gave it to him, but I'm sure there must be a copy around here somewhere. I'll have Watson look it up for you, if it'll make you feel better, but you really shouldn't worry about it. I would remember something about it if it had been serious."

"I guess," Konoe said, unsure. Hakushaku wasn't precisely famous for his ability to discern what mattered. "Let me know if you find anything, though."

As an isolated incident, he too would have let it pass, wouldn't have paid much attention to it. Considering the circumstances, that little detail could prove to be vital.

**_Tsuzuku_**

**_dodger-chan: heh heh, I say they have caller ID, so they do. :P I know how slow I am to get to the good stuff, but I think we're getting there, ne? I mean, the plot, lol. Tell me what you think. Hugs._**

**_PJ Zatken: I'm sorry I scared you!! You liked it, though... admit it. heh heh. Thanks for saying all those nice things that always have me blushing. Huggles dear._**

**_BakayaroManiac: Curious is good, it means you'll keep reading... I hope... I'm waiting for those pretty drawings of yours, k? I luv your drawings! Hugs _**

**_Schatten Wolfendorf: Si hay alguien que puede entender lo que es estar demasiado ocupada para las cosas que unoi realmente quiere hacer, esa soy yo -.-;; Los finales fueron un infierno, pero por suerte, hasta febrero no tengo que pensar mas en la facu. Que suerte lo de la laptop (envidia) Y si, era tu blog al final. Besos!_**

**_lyn: ya te conteste el review!! Waah, ahora que te escribo aca?! Mmmm... er... Ah! Como la pasaste con todos tus amigos anti-navideños? Igual, te mando un mail mas tarde, ok? Hugs para vos y Seii._**

**_Ja Ne!_**


	6. FIVE

**_A/N: Hello! This chapter is a little strange. I think it might be a little hard to read, but give it a try, yes? Tsuzuki's part is kinda Small and there only for plot purposes, while Tatsumi's part is longer, much more important and a little confusing. Another thing: I've never been to Japan, and probably never will be. I tried to look up information about transportation but wasn't able to find much, so I'll be as vague as I can about some things and use my own personal experience in others and call it poetic license, OK?_**

**_Enjoy!_**

**DEAD RECKONING**

**CHAPTER FIVE**

Bus stations- or any other kind of station, for that matter- had always struck him as quite contradictory places. On the one hand, you had all these people going away; for a short while or maybe forever, but all saying good bye. In that sense, those places were just a little less sad than hospitals. Those walls had heard so many farewells through the years. But then there were those people arriving. You could always tell when someone was waiting for a loved one instead of waiting to send them off. Their gestures, their stances, spoke of a very different kind of anxiety. Of course, there were also those who couldn't wait to get rid of their relatives, but that was a whole other story.

As it was, Tsuzuki knew how many different emotions flooded places such as that one, and he hadn't needed to see his partner's involuntary shudders to notice. If it had been up to him, he would have checked Haneda Airport and Haneda Kaku Station **(1)** first. There was Murphy's law to consider: the last place you look is more likely to have what you were looking for. Since the idea of Tatsumi taking a bus **was** the most plausible one- buses were, after all, much cheaper-, he thought it wouldn't hurt to get the odds to his favor and check the bus station last. Besides, Tatsumi had been acting strange; why not assume his choice of transportation could be strange as well? The thing is, he wasn't alone, and there was no way in hell Hisoka would have stand two stations and an airport in one day, for the reasons stated before.

Then again, if it hadn't been for Hisoka, he wouldn't have thought about it at all. Knowing himself, he knew very well that, had he miraculously come up with the idea without Hisoka's aid, he wouldn't have accomplished much on his own, anyway. He was a good enough detective, mind you, as long as it was for other people's causes; when it came to his own life, he was down right dense. So, no, he wasn't alone and he couldn't do things his way, which was probably for the best.

He was really, truly thankful for- and touched by- the help as well as the company. Hisoka had slept considerably less than him and he **had **gone to work (whether he had worked or not wasn't really the issue) yet here he was, tired, in an crowded place, all to help him with his little 'obsession' that really had nothing to do with him, and he wasn't even complaining!

Finally, after almost an hour of going through countless halls, stairs and ramps, after getting lost twice thanks to the very confusing directions given by a bored security guard and a very confusing map, they caught sight of the endless row of glass cubicles that were the booking offices. Tsuzuki was aghast; wasn't there supposed to be just nine bus companies?!**(2)** Why the hell were there so many offices? And they were supposed to ask in each one?!!

Tsuzuki took out Tatsumi's picture- the 'one' picture- from his pocket and prayed that Murphy's law, the very same he'd been counting on a moment before, wouldn't apply in this case. Hisoka also seemed a little taken aback by all those potential failures. What affected Tsuzuki the most- and he was sure his young partner shared the sentiment- was that some of these offices had pretty long queues. They would be there forever!

The younger shinigami eyed the first booth wearily and sighed.

"Leave this to me," He snatched the picture from his fingers and got on line. "We're gonna be here all night. You so owe me one," the boy all but barked, which probably translated into _'you'll be filling my share of lame ass paper work till kingdom come.'_ Well, it was worth it... wasn't it?

_'Queues,'_ he thought, as he was forced to take a ridiculously short step. _'So useful yet so darn annoying.'_ He started whistling to pass the time but Hisoka immediately let him know he didn't appreciate his poor attempts at a melody by elbowing him rather harshly- yet most effectively- on the ribs, so he started looking around for entertainment; he eyed a news stand that had more manga than newspapers, a drugstore, a bickering couple, two bickering couples, three... Was there something in the cafeteria's overpriced water? Then, and purely by accident, his eyes landed on a huge and quite luminous billboard right over the booking office they were waiting in line for. He squinted his eyes to read the tiny black letters. _'Destinations,'_ it read, _'Kofu, Gifu, Otsu, Maebashi, Nagano.'_**(3)** He frowned, grabbing Hisoka's arm and shaking it a little.

"What?!" the young man spat, yanking his arm away. Tsuzuki just pointed dumbly to his discovery. "Oh?" Hisoka's tone changed from angry to surprised, "Oh," and then resigned. The boy sighed. "I guess there's no point in us staying here, if you say he's gone to the beach..."

Tsuzuki nodded.

"That's what he said, yeah." He gave his partner a bright smile. "But this is good, isn't it?"

The green eyed boy took one look around and, seeing all the other billboards, shrugged.

"It sure is going to save us a lot of time." Then he gave him an odd look. "It's a good thing you saw it," he whispered, looking away. Tsuzuki beamed.

"Are you saying I'm not completely useless?" he teased.

"Shut up," Hisoka answered grouchily and turned away. Not before Tsuzuki saw him smile, though.

* * *

In the end, they hadn't had to ask in that many offices. Forty minutes later they had checked ten and there was only one left. They hadn't found much, either. None of the clerks could remember Tatsumi from the day before, but that didn't really surprised him or discourage him; those people didn't even bother to lift their eyes from their computer screens to talk to you, unless you specifically asked for it, and even then they were reluctant. 

All they had gathered were a bunch of time-tables for the destinations that were relevant to them. It would take him a while to select the most plausible options,- he wouldn't put Hisoka through that process, the boy had helped enough and deserved to rest- but even then he would be left with a bunch of different possibilities he had no way of confirming or discarding. When the man in front of them took his ticket and his change and moved away, Tsuzuki closed his eyes and again sent out a prayer to the heavens. This was their last chance at some semblance of certainty.

"Next," a young girl with a bored look on her face said coldly. Hisoka approached her. "Good evening, sir, what can I do for you?"

The young man answered coldness with coldness, simply placing the photo on the desk without so much as a nod as a reply to the greeting.

"Have you seen this man?" he said sternly and with such authority that, had he not known him, Tsuzuki would have thought he was much older.

The girl seemed disconcerted- as all the other clerks had been- that someone had taken them out of their monotonous routine and had actually asked for interaction. She blinked and took the picture, immediately widening her eyes and fidgeting uncomfortably in her seat. Tsuzuki immediately perked up.

"Why do you ask?" she asked, almost frightened.

"He's a friend of ours," Hisoka paused a moment to study her, "We're sure he was here yesterday and we want to know where he went."

She seemed to relax at Hisoka's words and her expression turned a little petulant.

"I'm sorry, but I can't give you that information, unless you're police officers." Then she seem to doubt. "You're not, right?"

Hisoka shook his head no and was about to insist, but Tsuzuki wasn't able to contain himself and spoke up.

"But you've seen him, right? You recognized him?"

"I see a lot of people every day," she said uninterested. "If you don't mind, I have to go back to work."

Tsuzuki's shoulders slumped. The girl held out the picture for him to take, and he was going to, but Hisoka pushed him aside and took it himself, glaring at the girl.

"Lets go," he said, and dragged the older man by the arm, away from the desk.

When they were a few yards away, Hisoka stopped walking and handed him the picture. Tsuzuki took it and pouted.

"'Soka!" he whined, "We had to ask her for the schedules, remember? Now we have to get in line again or we won't know were he might have gone!"

The young man shrugged.

"He went to some small town near Yokohama. It's two stops before that one."

Tsuzuki blinked.

"Huh?"

"I took her hand when I grabbed the picture." The boy rolled his eyes. "She so did remember him. I didn't need to be an empath to see it."

He nodded, still a little shocked.

"Yeah, I noticed that too. She seemed scared; Tatsumi has that effect on people."

"So?" The boy scrutinized him carefully. "What now?"

The older man considered it. He hadn't really thought about what he'd do with the information once he had it. Obviously, his first impulse was to run back to that annoying girl and ask her for a ticket to Yokohama. But Tatsumi had gone away for a reason, and that reason was most likely that he didn't want to be around him. Now he knew where he was; was there any need for him to go after him?

"I guess I have to think about it," he said at last.

Hisoka nodded.

"I'm going home now," he declared, "Do you want to be alone or are you coming with me?"

"You go ahead," he said apologetically. "I'm gonna grab a bite before I turn in. I'm starving." He was, but that wasn't why he wanted Hisoka to leave without him. "I'll see you at work tomorrow, OK? I really appreciate what you did and I'm gonna make it up to you," he finished with a smile. Hisoka smirked.

"You bet your ass you are." He was about to leave when he seemed to think of something. "Listen," he said seriously, "Try not to be.... yourself when you go see him. Remember he's the one having problems, he needs you to be supportive, OK? And call me when you leave, so I can cover your ass."

Tsuzuki nodded gratefully and waved him off. It wasn't after the boy was out of sight that he realized Hisoka had said 'when', not 'if'. Empath, indeed.

* * *

Tatsumi thought he had dealt with the situation rather well. Once he saw the young inn keeper disappearing behind that mysterious room's door, he had managed to fight the impulse of going after him quite easily, even if the idea hadn't really abandoned him completely. He was good at that, at ignoring what he really wanted to do and finding some trivial diversion to keep his mind occupied. 

First, he had gone to check the young man's car and, just as he'd suspected, he'd found that he had left all the groceries inside- as well as the car unlocked, for what his stomach was most grateful. So he'd done the sensible thing and taken everything to the kitchen. Walking through that hall, passing by **that** door, hadn't been so convenient but the fact that he'd been carrying several heavy bags had helped him fight the temptation. He'd stayed in the kitchen for a while, not trusting himself to be tested like that again without the urgency of weight, and he'd made good use of the time by making dinner. The sun had been starting to set by the time he'd been able to rush through that narrow hall and go back to his room.

Now it was almost 9 p.m and, after doing a very thorough chart about time economy for the rest of the week, he found himself, again, without anything to do. Not even his chart was of much help, since he'd done it thinking he would be too tired for anything else afterwards and had left that evening off. He wasn't tired, not really and, even when he knew that he would have been able to fall asleep sooner or later were he to lay down, something inside of him simply wouldn't let him. Of course, he could have done some of the things he had planned for the following day, but that would have rendered the chart useless.

It was really getting tiresome, this having to avoid his own thoughts and have so little imagination to do so. It wasn't enough that he had to constantly fight the 'Tsuzuki thoughts', now this drunken stranger had added to the conflict by sparkling his curiosity. It was 9 p.m, he thought, looking out the window. Kaede had been just too drunk to stay awake for long, in spite his apparent tendency to noctambulism; in the state he'd been in when he arrived, it wouldn't surprise Tatsumi if he slept all through the night. He could, technically, sneak in to find out...

Tatsumi shook his head violently. This was crazy! He wasn't a little animal, helplessly submitted to his every impulse! Never had been! Why was it so hard to ignore them now? This wasn't the sort of holiday he'd had in mind; he was supposed to be resting from that sort of problem, not find new ones!

He stood up abruptly from the small desk he'd been working on and went straight to fetch his suitcase that was still resting half-unpacked under his bed. He was getting the hell out of there, he decided, opening the suitcase. He was about to move to the closet to get the rest of his clothes when he noticed something that made him frown. Right on top of a brown cashmere sweater, folded neatly inside the aforementioned suitcase, rested a yellow folder he didn't remember packing. It was work, he noticed at once. Had he brought work with him without realizing he'd done so? Was he so much of a workaholic?

Tentatively, his fingers reached out for it and, just as he was about to open it, the sound of footsteps coming from outside his room caught his attention. He immediately, almost mechanically, closed his suitcase and put it back under the bed. It had to be Kaede, he reasoned, though he couldn't really understand what he would be doing up there; yet it wasn't the first time he caught him there, was it? He waited beside his door until the footsteps were distant before stepping outside. The hall was empty, but he got to see a shadow going downstairs. It was safe enough, he told himself; the young man was far enough so that he could follow him and go unnoticed. Why was he following him? He hadn't the slightest clue, but somehow that didn't matter anymore.

With careful steps, Tatsumi approached the top of the stairs and poked his head out to see if he was still there. He wasn't; the footsteps were now definitively coming from downstairs. The blue eyed man waited for a moment. If Kaede was still in the receiving area he would definitively see him coming down. Tatsumi held his breath; it seemed that every time he laid a foot on one of the wooden steps, the damned things would creak as if he weighed a thousand pounds; or maybe it wasn't so loud and he was just too nervous.

He could feel it running through his veins, the adrenaline and thrill that came with the forbidden. Was it forbidden, though? The young man had never mentioned the room, less alone given him any instruction not to enter it; he hadn't laid out any rules. And Tatsumi wasn't really doing anything so outrageous, was he? He'd heard noise outside and had gone out to see what it was. Where logic told him there was nothing to be frightened or feel guilty about, his heart let him know quite clearly that neither his actions nor his motives were good, however demanding, irrational and undeniable his impulses were.

He got a sense of deja vu when he reached the bottom of the stairs and was met by the empty reception, dimly lit by the lamp on the desk. The same sadness he'd perceived the night before seemed even deeper that night, though; it felt as though it had seeped through his skin and taken hold of him. That sadness was now his own.

He thought about the irony of the situation then. He was chasing a shadow. Shadows were his thing, and not only in a mere professional sense. His life was always surrounded by shadows; self-imposed shadows of feelings he wouldn't dare to feel, but that were there nonetheless, taunting him. Like the sadness he now felt, inexplicable, yet so familiar to him. Those shadows he couldn't control. Only Tsuzuki, the greatest of all shadows, the one he kept chasing after and running away from, was able to bring some light into his life at times. Sometimes he would smile, or simply look at him and Tatsumi would be living in a bright world for a few seconds. He was the Kagetsukai, though; the shadows always returned.

And it was a shadow he saw, this time disappearing into the narrow hallway that had been his silent torture that day. He didn't think about how impossible it was, in terms of time coherence, that he was only then seeing Kaede's shadow. Again his mind was set on one goal, logic seemed to loose its purpose and he dived into the hall's darkness head first.

He didn't hear the sound of the door opening, but when he got to THE room, the door was, indeed, half open. The only sound coming from the inside was static from the TV, which was also the only source of light. He had seen Kaede's shadow just a moment before; the man had to be awake and therefore would certainly notice if he entered. That was, sadly, a logical reasoning. Tatsumi really didn't think twice before pushing the door a little and walking in.

His feet moved of their own accord, taking him directly to the couch without any kind of hesitation. By then, he knew what he would find, so he wasn't at all surprised when he saw the sleeping form resting there, reeking of alcohol even after all that time. His face looked so peaceful, yet so troubled at the same time. The blue eyed man knelt next to the young man and contemplated his face with tender curiosity.

"You poor thing," he whispered, brushing a strand of dark hair away from his beautiful face. "You're so beautiful when you're sleeping, Tsuzuki."

As soon as the words left his mouth, Tatsumi seemed to wake from the trance and reality came rushing back into him, leaving him literally breathless. He would have been horrified by his actions, if the world hadn't faded to black at that precise moment.

_**Tsuzuku**_

_**1) Tokyo train station... I think. **_

_**(2) This is actually true for Japan, or so it said the website I visited.  
**_

_**(3) All these places are inland.**_

_**Thanks to: BakayaroManiac, PJ Zatken, maia8, lyn and Candy-chan.**__**I'll be able to answer reviews again, from now on, unless something 'else' happens to my computer.**_

**_JA NE!_**


	7. SIX

**_A/N: Geez! It's been four months! I won't justify myself, it was all my fault. You can all punch me senseless. So sorry guys.-weeps- So sorry._**

**_Anyway, you can check my LJ, _****_if I take too long to update. I'll keep everyone posted there, k?_**

**_Hugs and enjoy!_**

**DEAD RECKONING **

CHAPTER SIX

_Everything turned black and Tatsumi felt himself falling, fast, into that asphyxiating darkness; he felt himself melt into it, until he and the shadows were one. He was falling into himself, he knew, into the place he feared the most, and there wasn't a thing he could do to stop it. Soon, as he'd expected, the fall was over and a very familiar fire surrounded him. He was almost relieved, really, that his mind had chosen that particular form of torment. With his last nightmare still fresh in his mind, he couldn't help but to welcome that old, well-known punishment._

_The settings started to come together, he begun to feel his own body again and, while he wondered about that strange level of consciousness in what was obviously a dream, he resigned himself to what he knew was coming. He was scared, of course, and quite, but he wasn't a coward. He would walk right up to it, face it and have it over with as quickly as possible. _

_And walk he did, only he found things not as they always were. The lab doors were there, so was the fire, but it wasn't Tsuzuki the first person he saw. It was himself. There he was, standing on the same spot he'd stood that night. This time, neither Hisoka nor Watari were with him. He stood alone, watching the scene unfold, apparently unaware that he was being watched, by himself. Tatsumi, the real Tatsumi –or at least that's how he called himself in his mind to avoid going mad from sheer confusion- took a step forward and wondered about this new development –as well as the order and continuance of the universe- if this was some new 'lesson' his brain was trying to impart on him. Would it give him yet another reason to feel guilty? Was that impossible?_

_From over his own shoulder, he saw Tsuzuki kneeling underneath Touda's fire. The purple-eyed man looked more dead than alive, as paradoxical as that sounded. His face was drawn and Tatsumi was sure he weighed several pounds less than what he'd actually weighed that night. His eyes looked hollow, fixed on some invisible point. He looked empty, and Tatsumi felt like lurching. He turned to look at himself then and, took a shaky breath. His own eyes seemed to gleam as they watched that inhuman carcass Tsuzuki had become. He could have sworn he saw a half-smile tugging at his lips. _

_He tried to speak, scream, and put an end to it. Satisfaction was not something he could ever associate with that night. Not only he would have never enjoyed that morbid spectacle, he would have never left Tsuzuki be so lost. Would he? Hadn't he? Weren't those empty purple eyes those of someone who has lost the will to live? Weren't those Tsuzuki's eyes? He wanted to lash out at himself for what he was seeing; hell, he would have beat the crap out of himself if he'd been able. But he wasn't. No sound left his lips. Nothing he did made his other self even turn to look at him. Tatsumi fell to his knees. Every time he thought he was beginning to know how to deal with it, his own mind would betray him and throw even more into the baggage. What the hell was he supposed to do? How could he ever atone for his sins?_

"_What do you think is more selfish?" Tatsumi lifted his head and found his own gaze staring back at him, his blue eyes swarming with mirth. "To let someone die because you can't admit you love them, or to force someone that loves you to live without you?"_

* * *

He wasn't surprised at the decision he'd made, nor had been Hisoka when he'd called him to let him know. What did surprise him was how quickly he'd decided. He had barely had any doubts and for some reason, his own insecurities hadn't been an obstacle. If he'd taken any time at all, it was because he figured he had to come up with a plan of action for when he had Tatsumi in front of him. Yes, he was going after him. 

Maybe, he thought now, it wasn't such a good thing that he'd been so fast. Being as it was just a little after midnight, the bus station was almost deserted. Carrying a small bag he'd packed in a rush moments before leaving the house, Tsuzuki traded along the hall, looking around and feeling just a tad paranoid. There was nothing of the rush he'd witnessed earlier, only a few lonely travelers here and there that, thanks to the place's profound and ironically reverberating silence, looked frighteningly suspicious.

Quickening his pace, Tsuzuki retrieved his ticket from his pocket and searched with his eyes for the platform number: 50, and he was just passing next to the 15th. He'd got there with plenty of time to spare before his bus departed, but now he wasn't so sure he'd ever make it at all. In truth, it wasn't so much as him being short of time, not really. He was anxious to find Tatsumi and put to practice what he'd so carefully planned out that night. The moment Hisoka had left that night, hinting at what later would become a reality, Tsuzuki had started to imagine what he'd do once he was face to face with the blue eyed man. The first thing he'd thought about was something along the lines of toppling Tatsumi over, hugging him senseless and drag him back home whether he wanted or not. He knew, though, that just wouldn't work; no one, ever, had been able to force Tatsumi into doing something he didn't want to do. He had to convince him.

So he started reflecting on their relationship, trying to remember everything he knew about Tatsumi to use it to change his mind or, if it came down to it, simply extortionate him. The thing is, while thinking about these stuff, he got sidetracked, focusing more on the memories that came to mind than on his original idea. The more he thought about it, the angrier he got. As in one of those epiphanies that don't really reveal anything new, but rather put things in perspective, Tsuzuki was suddenly able to see their relationship as a whole, instead of a sum of isolated incidents. He realized that the current situation wasn't really that different from all other times. While it was true Tatsumi was acting odd, in the end it all came down to him running away. This time, Tsuzuki didn't get distracted by feeling sorry for himself and thinking he deserved that sort of treatment. This wasn't about him being a monster; it was about Tatsumi being a chicken.

He couldn't put all the blame on the blue eyed man, though. In fact, he considered himself equally guilty and that, instead of placating his anger, made it stronger. It wasn't like he had made things easier for Tatsumi. Had he ever made his feelings clear? Had he ever done anything but subtly 'hinting'? In his mind, he'd always thought it was Tatsumi's job to take the first step; he'd always hoped the other would declare his undying love first, so he wouldn't have to risk making a fool of himself. Evidently, Tatsumi was either unable to do that, or didn't feel the same way. Whatever it was, Tsuzuki had finally decided he couldn't wait anymore. He had to confront him. He had to know.

At last, the 50th platform came into view. Luckily, the bus was still there, so he headed towards the ticket collector, who looked terribly bored and, once the poor man had ripped the ticket in two, Tsuzuki looked for his seat. He felt a sort of relief when he sat down; even if the bus hadn't started to move yet, he felt that, once seated, there was no turning back. Not that he had second thoughts; no sir.

Gazing out the window, he wondered how the journey back home would be. He couldn't help being afraid of what would happen; he was about to lay his cards on the table, without really knowing if he had a good hand. It was all a matter of luck, really.

* * *

Tatsumi woke up with a start, eyes wide and on the verge of hyperventilating. Clutching his chest with one hand, trying to catch his breath, he sat up as little beads of sweat trailed down his forehead. It wasn't strange in the slightest that he would wake up in that state, though, so he found it easy to calm down and regain his senses. The nightmare, the abrupt awakening, it was all familiar to him, in a way. When he was focused enough to look around, he found himself in his room, on his bed, and saw that there was already light, though dim, coming through the window. It was morning already. Now, this wouldn't have meant anything to him in any other circumstance. What threw him off balance was that he couldn't remember going to bed at all, and the events of the night before were blurry in his mind. One thing was to know he was acting off character, another thing was blacking out and loosing time. Maybe he was going crazy, after all. 

He tried then to remember how he'd got there, gather his thoughts. He could recall leaving his room, though the reason wasn't quite clear. He'd gone downstairs, chasing something, someone. Just when the pieces of the puzzle were starting to fit together, however, a noise coming from the door startled him, bringing him back to the present. The door begun opening slowly, and Tatsumi stared at it, expectant. After a couple of endless moments, Kaede walked in but, for some reason, the sight didn't manage to shake off Tatsumi's feelings of dread. The young inn-keeper stopped short at the doorway, looking at him with a mixture of surprise and relief.

"You're awake," he said a little apprehensively. Tatsumi nodded dumbly, too confused to even acknowledge it was a rhetorical statement. Kaede walked over to the bed, stopping at his side while obviously keeping his distance. He seemed tense, seemed to be avoiding Tatsumi's eyes, for whatever reason. "I was starting to think you wouldn't wake up. How are you feeling?"

Tatsumi frowned deeply and unwittingly started to massage his temple with one slightly trembling hand, as if the mess inside his head was causing him actual pain. Well, it was. There was this constant, dull pain at the back of his eyes, but it wasn't that what was bothering him. This guy had just entered his room without knocking and, from what he'd said, it was clear he'd done it more than once that night. It was also evident he'd had a reason to do it, and that was what prevented his annoyance from escalating to outrage. He removed the hand from his face, but not the frown, and glared hard at the inn-keeper.

"Why are you here?" He didn't care one bit about how rude he'd just sounded.

Kaede sighed and nodded resignedly.

"You don't remember." It looked like he was speaking mostly to himself, which didn't help matters any.

"Remember what!" barked Tatsumi impatiently. It wasn't really the boy who was bugging him- though his gloomy and mysterious attitude was getting a little old-, it was the situation itself. He was taking it out on Kaede because easier than dealing with it and, for the time being, that suited him just fine. The inn-keeper didn't seem to take offence, though, or care much; he just shrugged.

"You passed out some time last night, downstairs. I found you when I woke up a few hours ago."

The kagetsukai could only stare at him in a mixture of disbelief and realization as he remembered, in part, what ha happened. He still didn't understand what had motivated his actions, but now he knew enough to be ashamed of them. So ashamed, that there was no room left to feel embarrassed by the fact that Kaede had carried him upstairs and had changed him into his pajamas. Too ashamed, even, to wonder about the other having a virtual stranger unconscious in his house for hours without calling an ambulance. Tatsumi looked down and lifted his hands sheepishly.

"Look, I..." he begun, in a feeble attempt to explain himself. But he couldn't think of anything. He had passed out, in a room he wasn't supposed to be in, and had no excuse to offer Kaede, or himself. He didn't have the time to come up with a good lie, though, the young man turned his back to him abruptly and took a deep breath.

"You have to go," he rushed out.

Tatsumi straightened up in bed, taken aback and unsure he'd heard correctly.

"Excuse me?"

"You cannot stay here," he repeated sternly. More gently, he added: "I'm sorry."

Those words made his blood run cold; he could actually feel the cold spreading through his body. Kaede was kicking him out? He couldn't leave! Not yet. He was there for a reason and, while that reason was all that clear to him at the moment, he knew he hadn't yet done what he'd gone there to do. He'd hardly rested at all and hadn't really had the time to think about... He just couldn't leave yet.

"Why?" he asked in shock, baffled and a bit desperate. "I'm sorry if I bothered you last night, but I'm not sick, or anything. It won't happen again!"

Kaede turned to face him again and, shoulders slumped, gave him the saddest of glances.

"Why are you here?" he all but cried. "Why don't you just leave?"

There was a hint of anger and frustration in his voice. Suddenly, Tatsumi got it; he wasn't sure why, but he understood, and it filled him with a grief too heavy to bare. He stood up, very slowly, and approached the other carefully so not to scare him. His legs felt a bit wobbly and each step he took he risked tripping. He didn't care; the floor felt as soft and mushy as it felt unstable. When he was finally in front of him, merely inches apart, he noticed the young man was shaking like a leaf.

"Do I bother you 'that' much?" he whispered. "Do you really want me gone?"

The other closed his eyes tight and shivered, which struck him as odd, considering how fast the room was warming up. Then he saw a tear that had managed to escape, trailing down his cheek. Of course, he wasn't cold, he was crying. Tatsumi froze for a second. He thought about getting out of there, or berating him about being too sensitive. He knew how much that scene could affect him. He tried hard to convince himself that it would be better to leave him alone. But he had lied to himself one too many times and he figured it was as good a time as any to face the music. Softly, tenderly, he wiped the tear away and felt the other lean slightly into his touch.

"Please," he whispered. "Please, just go. Leave me alone."

Tatsumi had to smile at the lack of conviction in that sentence. He was thrilled, joyful almost, about finally having the guts to do what he knew was right. Ironically, he also felt torn up inside, wishing he'd done it sooner, when there was still time.

"I can't," he cooed, pulling the other close. "I won't leave you again."

The younger man pulled away just enough to focus two large, shimmering violet eyes directly into his.

"Promise me," he said, his bottom lip quivering. Tsuzuki then buried his face in the crook of his neck and wrapped his arms tight around him, finally giving in. His tears were now flowing freely and dampening Tatsumi's shirt. "Swear you'll stay this time."

"I swear."

* * *

The first thing that Watari had learned when he was little was that, when people don't take you seriously, they tend to be careless around you. Having everyone think you're deranged and incoherent will not only grant you the opportunity to act strangely without them questioning you, it also makes it really easy to observe them without calling too much attention to yourself. it had worked for Hamlet and, while the lunacy act came alarmingly easy to him, Watari was sure it could work for him as well. 

And it did; it worked. Watari looked at his watch. He'd been standing in the very same spot of the hall, doing nothing except staring at the wall in front of him, for and hour and a half now. Many employees walked past him since- some of them more than once- and not one had asked what he was doing. Most of them hadn't bothered to look twice. They were probably relieved that whatever he was doing didn't involve beakers. While everyone else ignored him, though, he was keeping a close eye on the door to Tatsumi's office, waiting for his prey to take the bait.

For days, he'd been watching all of his friends very carefully. Something was definitively up and, curiously enough, he wasn't to blame for the weirdness. At first, it hadn't been anything more than Tatsumi distancing himself from Tsuzuki- and, as a consequence, from the rest. It was odd, considering how addicted he was to the amethyst eyed man, but it wasn't at all unheard of. Watari may have known his attitude was completely retarded, but he had simply guessed it would wear off with time, as it had happened before. The shocker had been, for him as well as for anyone else in Meifu, to hear that Tatsumi had taken a holiday. That's when he'd got curious and, when Watari was curious, something had to be done about it. The thing was, though, that his usual sources of information/gossip (a.k.a.: Saya and Yuma) didn't know anything about it either and, of course, he wouldn't have asked directly even if he'd been able.

His curiosity, however, hadn't been the only one awakened. Watari smiled and took a step back, hiding behind a column, as he saw Konoe approaching furtively down the hall. The old man was an open book. He looked around nervously, over his shoulders, to his sides, before subtly stopping at Tatsumi's door. All he needed was a raincoat and a black hat and he would have been completely obvious. It was just what Watari had been waiting for.

Without even noticing he was being watched, the old man walked in and closed the door behind him, being extremely careful not to make a sound. Watari smiled in triumph and cracked his knuckles. He would wait before following the man in. He really needed to catch him red-handed, so he would give him enough time to incriminate himself. It was a simple plan; he needed information about Tatsumi- if only to satisfy his curiosity- and the best way to get it and not put himself at risk was to let someone look it up for him. Now, the only way to force that person to share was to have sufficient dirt to coerce him. He had just been waiting for the first sucker to give into the temptation. His money had been on Hisoka, but the chief was way better. He just might get a raise on top of things.

He couldn't resist; he slammed the door open with a bang, startling the other senseless. Konoe's hands went instantly up in a most guilty reaction, throwing up in the air what he'd been holding and stared at him like a deer caught in headlights from within a crispy white shower of paper. Watari, for his part, did nothing to hide the smirk from his face.

"Spying, are we?" he chanted merrily.

Pale as the files now carpeting the office floor, Konoe opened and closed his mouth soundlessly several times before answering in a terrified tone.

"Wa… Watari! I can explain! This isn't what it looks like!" muttered the chief sounding like an unfaithful spouse.

"Of course it isn't," he said condescendingly. "I'm sure there's a perfectly good reason for you to be here, going through Tatsumi's stuff while he's out. But that is none of my business, is it?" he added innocently. "It's not my office, after all. I'm sure Tatsumi would approve of your explanation, though."

The silent threat was delivered with such confidence and so little subtlety that Konoe answered automatically, in an alarmed tone:

"What do you want?"

The blond lifted a finger to his chin in mock consideration, smiling at the rotund triumph. He slowly walked up to the other man.

"Well, if I were to… say, find out what's going on with Tatsumi, I might be just too busy thinking about it to remember this little incident."

The chief's eyebrows shot up.

"That's all?" he asked in surprised relief, something Watari didn't find amusing in the slightest. After all that sneaking around and plotting, to have his goal referred to as something so trivial was most offending.

"I could always use some extra cash," he added dryly.

The fear was back on the other man's face and Watari considered himself satisfied. Konoe cleared his throat and pretended he hadn't heard.

"Curious thing," he begun nervously, "I was just about to go get you to discuss Tatsumi's situation."

"Huh?" The blond blinked. While the chief had obviously brought that up to avoid the monetary aspects of his demands, Watari could tell he'd meant it. That was weird and, though the direct approach wasn't his style, the comment took him by surprise. "Why would you want to talk to me about it?" It wasn't like he was Konoe's confidant, or anything.

In a more business like mode, stack of papers now in hand, Konoe stood up and gave him a dead serious look.

"Watson-sama came to see me this morning. A few days ago, the Earl gave Tatsumi a case and asked him to decide to whom it should be assigned. It seemed like a routine case, but it fell under Tsuzuki's jurisdiction and you know how things are." Watari nodded. He knew, even if he didn't agree on how 'things' were being handled. "Shortly after getting the file, though, he asked for time off and left without saying a word to anyone about it. I wouldn't have known if Hakushaku hadn't let it slip."

"I don't get it," he shrugged, half confused, half bored by the story. "So he took one of Tsu-chan's cases. What's new? He never gave a horse's ass about protocol when it came to himself." Hell, half the time the guy acted like he was Enma!

Konoe shook his head gravely and placed the files on the desk.

"He didn't just withheld information, Watari; he lied, and that 'is' unlike him. And it doesn't end there." The dramatic pause and subsequent deep breath told Watari he wouldn't like what he'd hear. "I said Watson-sama came by earlier. He was supposed to bring me the backup file. The thing is, he couldn't find it. It just wasn't there."

Again, the scientist was caught off guard.

"You don't mean…"

"I was hoping it was a mistake, that I'd find it here, or something. But…" Konoe sighed sadly. "It was stolen, from right under the Earl's nose, and you know as well as I do there's only one man who could have done that without being noticed."

"Holy shit!" he breathed.

Only one man, that was for sure. This was much more than a troubled relationship. This was much more than he'd thought possible. It was theft and deceit, which spelled out 'a shinigami out of control' in big bright red letters, but… Tatsumi?

After a very, very long pause, Konoe opened the door again and stepped out. Watari followed dumbly.

"You and Hisoka will partner up for this one. Tsuzuki went after him, for personal reasons, of course, and I don't want him to know about this yet. He and Hisoka seemed to have found a lead to where he went. Hisoka is at the Castle of Candles, trying to put the case together again from scratch, to see if it helps. You should go help him and find whatever you can before leaving."

Watari swallowed hard, completely and utterly dumbstruck.

"What about Tatsumi? I mean, how should we…?"

"He's the case now," the chief said sternly. Watari couldn't believe his ears. "You find him and bring him in."

_**Tsuzuku**_

**_I don't have the guts to answer your reviews, after such a long time. So thanks to: Schatten Wolfendorf, dodger-chan, BakayaroManiac, Candy-chan, lyn, firedraygon and makasarily. I hope at least a few of you remember thisstory, -.-;_**

**JA NE!**


	8. SEVEN

**_A/N: Hello there! (APLAUSE) It took considerably less than four months this time, didn't it? (APLAUSE AGAIN) What I didn't mention on the last chapter- and for what I've already been thoroughly punished (cries)- is that Lyn helped me get out of the rot I was in, she lend me her computer so I could write it and then used medieval torture methods- that included a HUGE dog beating the crap out of me- to get me to do it and finish the chapter. She did feed me, so it wasn't so bad, and offered her valuable- though intimidating- advice so I would get to the point and got back on track. So now you know, and we all have to kneel down at her feet and worship her for the rest of time._**

_**To do this, you can all start by checking out the fanart she made for this fic at Deviantart, her user name is lyn-miss-kittin and the name of the fanart is **Contemplacion_

**_Enjoy!_**

**DEAD RECKONING**

**CHAPTER SEVEN**

It wasn't the first time Tatsumi 'visited' the back of the house, for sure, but it was actually the first time there was enough light for him to see it in detail. Besides, he wasn't sneaking around this time, so it certainly took the edge away. It was like another world after crossing the narrow hallway; though it was part of the same house, the vibe was completely different. It felt... inhabited, alive, and the air was much cleaner.

Tatsumi's gaze clung to a picture hanging from the wall. It was a photograph: two people, two men posing for the camera, one obviously more willing than the other. It was a beautiful picture, one that gave him a warm feeling at the pit of his stomach. He would have wanted to study it further, but Tsuzuki tugged at their entwined hands, beckoning him to continue walking. Of course, he thought fondly, they were going to the kitchen. It was no wonder the other was anxious to get there. Tsuzuki looked happy, he noted; there was a sort of childish glow in his eyes. Well, more of a glow than usual. He wanted to believe that he was the cause,but the prospect of breakfast surely played a big part in it. If he had to be honest, though, he also felt rather giddy.

Letting go of his hand, Tsuzuki rushed into the kitchen and stopped at the fridge, turning around to flash him an adorable, bright smile.

"So? What it'll be?" he asked happily. "I can make you an American breakfast, if you want. Or maybe you'd like some rice omelet, or tamagoyaki?"

Tatsumi chuckled at the other's excitement and approached him, shaking his head. When he was close enough, he rested a hand on the fridge's door, trapping Tsuzuki, who stared at him with wide, mirthful eyes.

"There's no way in hell," he whispered, "I'm letting you cook."

Tsuzuki blinked, disconcerted.

"You don't like my cooking?" he asked pitifully, batting his eyelashes.

The Kagetsukai stared at him for a long moment, unfazed. He then opened the door, causing Tsuzuki to stumble forward, right into his chest. He kissed the top of the dark mane and then ruffled it playfully, pushing the other away, towards the table.

"You wait while I put something together, ok?"

The amethyst-eyed man laughed and plopped down the nearest chair. Tatsumi roamed the contents of the fridge with his eyes, took out the butter, a few eggs and milk and went to the counter. It felt so natural, like he'd done that all his life. Almost instinctively, he knew where everything was; the pan, the beater, the bowl. The whole situation felt so incredibly familiar. Tatsumi had never felt so good. It was unnatural. Once the dough was ready, he lit the stove, put the pan on the fire and poured a spoonful of the mix on it. He glanced Tsuzuki's way then; he couldn't help it. The man was resting his chin on the palm of his hand, looking at him fixedly, with an intensity that made his knees weaken.

"What?" he asked self-consciously. "Do I have something on my face?"

Tsuzuki shook his head lazily, smiling at him.

"I'm just getting used to it." He stood up and slowly made his way towards the blue eyed man, never breaking eye contact. "It's very beautiful, you know? Your face, I mean."

As incredible as it may sound, that comment didn't flatter him as much as he'd expected. In fact, it made him feel a pang of irrational jealousy.

"What do you mean? I've always looked the same."

Tsuzuki smirked knowingly, stopping inches away from him. He graced Tatsumi's cheek with his fingers.

"You have very good taste." The warm feeling at the pit of his stomach was suddenly replaced with unease- Something wasn't right with this picture. Tsuzuki's words made no sense, yet he understood them at some level. The other must have noticed the change of mood, because he immediately shook his head and leaned even closer, leaving the most unbearable of almost nonexistent spaces between them. Seductively, he added: "Your pancake is burning."

After dealing with that little 'emergency', Tatsumi and Tsuzuki sat down to eat breakfast in silence. He hadn't been able to shake that awkward feeling off completely, and the violet-eyed man seemed to realize it. Every so often, his eyes moved unwittingly to land on Tsuzuki. He'd always loved to watch the other eating; it was when Tsuzuki looked happier. But today it was different. He sure didn't look sad, or anything. It was just different. For one, he was eating way too neatly. Tatsumi had to admit he was almost hoping the other would make a mess, so he'd get to clean his face. It didn't happen. They actually finished eating without Tsuzuki getting food anywhere it wasn't intended to go. They finished, but the awkwardness remained. Awkwardness on his part, actually. Tsuzuki just leaned back on his chair and sighed contently, as if nothing had happened.

"That was delicious," he said, "You should make breakfast from now on."

The tone of Tsuzuki's voice as he said that made Tatsumi smile. It was like saying 'we'll have breakfast together every morning', or something. Still, there was something he needed to ask; it had been only three pancakes for each, after all.

"Are you satisfied?" Somehow, even when his words had lacked any sort of double meaning, Tatsumi knew he'd said the wrong thing- so to speak. Tsuzuki's eyes revealed that he had also thought the same thing; he practically undressed him with his gaze and Tatsumi couldn't help but to blush. "I mean," he corrected, "Aren't you still hungry?"

"Hmmm," the man answered eloquently, as he begun playing suggestively with his fork. "Hungry? Not really." And yet he sure looked it, Tatsumi thought nervously. "I can't say I'm... satisfied, though." He stood up and the Kagetsukai noted that his heartbeat speeded up at the same time everything else slowed down dangerously.

"I..." he mumbled, while Tsuzuki walked up to him. "I can make something else, if you want."

"I want something else," the younger man breathed, running a hand through Tatsumi's hair. Without thinking, Tatsumi placed his own hand on top of the other's, and wrapped his free arm around Tsuzuki's waist, which the violet-eyed man, it seemed, took as an invitation to straddle him. "You'll help me, right?"

Well, the awkwardness was gone, that was for sure. The warm feeling didn't return, though; this was more like burning. It felt so good, so damn good. Unable to restrain himself, he gingerly traced his lips along Tsuzuki's jaw line. Tsuzuki nuzzled his hair and Tatsumi could swear he heard him purr. He'd lied, thought Tatsumi idly; no one who wasn't hungry could do 'that' to an earlobe. Groaning, he pushed Tsuzuki away, just a little, to look at his face. That was a sight to behold; it hadn't been more than a few seconds, and the young man was already all flushed and panting. Neither of them resisted for long. In an instant they were kissing, deeply.

Tatsumi couldn't believe it was actually happening. Even if he didn't admit it to himself, he'd wanted this, for so long. The kiss was wonderful, mind you, hot as hell, but he couldn't help feeling weird. There was something about it; he couldn't put his finger on it. He was beyond caring, though, mentally and physically. Tsuzuki was also very... enthusiastic, to put it lightly. The amethyst eyed man wouldn't conform with just kissing- as if that could be called 'just' a kiss; his hands were everywhere; on his chest, his stomach, his arms, his hair. Not that he was trying, but he couldn't have stopped his own body from responding. It 'had' been a long time, he figured; for both of them.

Everything would have been great, he could have gone on like that forever for all he cared, but then Tsuzuki pressed his groin against Tatsumi's. That was a bucket of cold water, ironically enough. Breaking the kiss, and after a much needed gulp of air, Tatsumi pushed Tsuzuki away, this time completely, causing the other to fall flat on his ass. He felt like scum at the way Tsuzuki looked at him, his eyes big with a surprise that left no room for frustration.

"What...?" the young man asked confusedly, "What's wrong?"

Tatsumi didn't know what to say, how to explain it. There 'was' something wrong; everything about what had just happened had been wrong. The thing was that, though he could recognize it had been his fault, at the moment it wasn't with himself he was angry, and he certainly didn't want to lash out at Tsuzuki; especially when he was looking like that. How did he manage to look so innocent after 'that'?

"I'm sorry," he said sheepishly, standing up and reaching out a hand for Tsuzuki to take. He helped the other up, managing to do it without really looking at him. "That was out of line."

"What was?" Tsuzuki asked, with a hint of anger in his voice. "You pushing me, right?"

Tatsumi ran a hand through his hair and huffed.

"Tsuzuki-san, I don't think... We shouldn't..."

He wasn't looking at Tsuzuki, of course; if he had, he probably would have seen the other's movements 'before' he felt the slap. Shocked, he lifted a hand to the now sore spot and looked questioningly at him. Tsuzuki's eyes were so full of anger it would have easily been mistaken with hate.

"Son of a bitch," Tsuzuki snarled. "You haven't changed. You'll never change."

"Tsuzuki-san..."

Something dangerous flashed through the other's eyes as he said this. Tatsumi wouldn't have been surprised if he slapped him again, but he couldn't figure out why.

"Fuck you," he said in an eerily calm tone, and stormed out of the room.

* * *

The cab speeded away, leaving Tsuzuki behind and lifting a cloud of dust that had him coughing and crying at the same time. One would have thought the cabdriver was being chased by the police or something but, then again, he hadn't gone any slower on the ride there. Tsuzuki had the three cherry-filled donuts he'd had for breakfast still stuck in his throat. He glared at the retreating vehicle before looking around. 

According to the old lady sitting next to him on the bus- well, she hadn't been sitting there originally, but until after she saw him alone- there was only one town near Yokohama with a hotel that fitted the description of the one he'd seen in the fragment of the brochure. This, however, where he was now, was arguably a 'town'. At least at plain sight, there weren't more than six blocks around, and half the buildings looked about to crumble. It was fitting, he thought: the lingering cloud of dust, the midday sun forcing his eyes to squint, the ghost town; it looked like out of a movie and, as silly as it may sound, he was amused by it. He would have headed straight for the bar, half hoping to find a white-hatted cowboy there, if he hadn't noticed right away that it was closed. Lucky for him, he'd grabbed a bite back at the bus stop, or he'd risk dying of starvation.

Time to get to the point, he thought, putting his bag over his shoulder. He had to ask for directions if he wanted to find Tatsumi before the day was over. Surely someone still lived there; hopefully. He started walking, slowly, lazily, enjoying the scenery, Dead and all, the town had its charm. Shop after shop he passed, finding them all closed and with enough dirt on their doors to tell him they hadn't been open for a while. What the hell was Tatsumi doing in a place like this? He would have to find the shore, he figured, and walk until he found the inn. It would take forever!

A squeaking sound caught his attention and, looking straight ahead to the main street, he saw a lonely figure approach him. Signs of life, he noted relieved. As soon as his virtual savior was close enough for him to see it was an old man riding an equally old bike, he saw the old man's expression of surprise directed at him. Tsuzuki flashed him one of his most charmingly sweet smiles and waved his way. The man slowed down to a stop by his side, not very gracefully by the way, and eyed him from head to toe.

"Good afternoon, Jii-san," The old man nodded curtly as a reply, making Tsuzuki feel a little awkward. "I'm a bit lost and I was wondering if you could give me a hand." No answer, just a piercing set of clouded brown eyes focused straight at him. Undeterred, and even widening his smile, he asked again. "Would you happen to know a western looking hotel? It should be nearby."

This must have caught the old man's attention, thought Tsuzuki, who suddenly found an accusing bony finger pressed against his chest.

"Who are you?" rasped the man out. "Are you one of those reporters? You look like one." Tsuzuki blinked a few times.

"Huh? A reporter?" He pointed at himself. "I'm not a reporter."

A few, rather harsh pokes at his chest with the aforementioned finger let him know the old man wasn't at all convinced.

"You leave Kaede-kun alone, you hear me? He's a good kid!"

"Sir, Jii-san!" Tsuzuki tried to stop the other man from carving a hole in his chest. "I'm not a reporter, I swear!" In an act of desperation, he grabbed the old man by the wrist to stop the attack. "I'm just looking for a friend!"

After a bit of struggling, the man gave up and gave him a weary look.

"You better not be lying to me, son," he threatened and, as decrepit as he looked, Tsuzuki couldn't help feeling a little intimidated. "A friend, you say?"

The violet eyed man nodded, encouraged.

"Yes, yes! I'm almost certain he went to that hotel I asked you about, and it's urgent I find him."

"I don't know," he said, unsure. "That hotel has been closed for over a year. Are you sure you're in the right town?"

"As sure as I can be. I'm sort of following him without his permission," admitted Tsuzuki. "Do you know where it is?"

"Yes," the old man said reluctantly, and pointed on the direction he'd come from. "A few miles that way. You just follow the main street and you'll find it continues into a dirt road. It would lead you right to the Silent Siren. But..." He looked down, biting his lip. "I'm sure your friend isn't there. You must have got it wrong."

Tsuzuki smiled grateful.

"I'll check, anyway. It can't hurt to make sure, right?" He patted the man in the arm and turned to walk away. "Thanks a lot!" he exclaimed. The man, however, wasn't ready to let him leave. He caught Tsuzuki by the arm, almost causing him to fall over.

"Wait! Son, please... You shouldn't go. Your friend is not there."

The pleading tone caused him to frown. Shaking the hand off, he tried hard not to glare at the increasingly annoying old man. This had gone from awkward to plain bizarre and more than just a bit creepy.

"What do you mean? He came to this town and, unless there's another western looking hotel around, he's staying there!"

Still, the old man shook his head and insisted adamantly.

"Kaede-kun wouldn't let him stay there. Not after... The inn is closed."

"Well," Tsuzuki said between gritted teeth. "Then I guess I'll go and ask this Kaede person if he's seen my friend, because it's obvious he didn't know it was closed when he decided to come, isn't it?" Making sure to keep his arms out of the other's reach, he took a step back. "Again, thanks for your help, but I'm in a hurry."

With one last look at that odd little man, Tsuzuki rushed out of there faster than the cab had a while ago.

* * *

It was quite the contrast, thought Hisoka, to walk around a place like the Castle of Candles, that emitted so much solemnity and respect, while listening to the endless tirade of nonsense coming from Hakushaku's mouth. The green eyed boy had put up with it as much as he could, but the occasional eye-roll had escape him. Hisoka had done his best to block the Earl's voice out, and concentrated on the task at hand. Considering that there wasn't any room in that invisible skull of his for anything other than Tsuzuki, he had known it would be hard. Imagine millions and millions of candles and having to make a pervert suffering from ADD to notice just the one he needed to find. Going over the Kiseki hadn't be much difference. 

But it was done; he was out of there, thank God, and more than ready to get down to business. In fact, he was almost anxious about it. Maybe he was making too much of it, perhaps he was overreacting, but Tatsumi was his role model, the only one he truly believed to be reliable, and now not only was the Kagetsukai cracking up, he was anything short of a fugitive. It was no wonder Hisoka felt a little off balance. Now that he knew a bit more about the case, though- if only the name of the subject- it didn't seem so hopeless. He rushed into JuOhCho, gripping a tiny piece of paper between his fingers like a life-line and hoping Konoe had found the time to tell Watari that they would be working together. He wasn't about to wait to find the man to take the next step, though. He would go straight to the Gushoushin and pray his findings would mean anything at all to them.

To his surprise, Watari was already there, waiting for him at the Library's entrance, and he looked happy. Sadly, that didn't necessarily mean anything; that could be just Watari being Watari, and Hisoka wasn't sure he was thrilled of having to spend the rest of his day with another nut-job.

"Bon!" cheered the blond, as if he were to announce he'd won the lottery, or something. "I was just about to go get you!"

Hisoka just bowed politely.

"Good afternoon, Watari san. I take it Konoe told you?"

Watari nodded, putting on the most over-dramatic expression.

"He told me everything. Tatsumi is in big, BIG trouble."

"Not if we can help it," answered Hisoka gravely. "I'm certain there's more to this than we're getting. If we find out what Tatsumi's case was, we'll understand why he did what he did." He said this with such confidence that even to him sounded a bit like denial, but he couldn't help it. Watari seemed to buy it, though, and if he didn't, he didn't comment on it. They both walked into the library together. His eyes landed on the elder Gushoushin and, without wasting a single moment on pleasantries, walked up to it and, dropping the small piece of paper in front of him, said: "Look this up for me."

The chicken blinked, so did Watari.

"Excuse me?"

Rather rudely- or at least, rude for Hisoka-, he pointed at the laptop screen the elder Gushoushin had in front of it and then at the paper.

"Please, look it up. It's very important."

The elder Gushoushin picked it up and, scratching his head, read out loud.

"Nobutsuna Katsuhiko?"

**_TSUZUKU_**

**_REVIEWS_**

**_First of all to Lyn, even though she didn't review, because she's so nice and helpfull and I'm one step away from naming her co-autor of this story._**

**_Dragonsong: I'm glad you enjoy it. I also hope my precious fic doesn't end up in the pits of unfinished fanfic hell, because I liek it too much. Hugs._**

**_Ellrohan: Of course it's good! No worries. You can review whenever you like. I agree, Tatsumi is not normal, but I'm not going to answer your question. You'll just have to keep reading to see if you were right. Mwuahaha_**

**_sari: I know I took a long time to update. My saint seiya fic hasn't been update for five months and counting, yet I haven't given up on it yet, so don't worry. And Tatsuki is always good!_**

**_BakayaroManiac: Well, I'm glad you haven't forgot about this! I love your reviews! Though I'm not glad about creeping you out... oh, who am I kidding, I love it! Hugs_**

**_Brass Dragon: Tell me about this substance my fic has. Is it gooey? Smelly? Anyway, thanks for your lovely review, k? Hugs._**

**_Schatten Wolfendorf: Si es buena idea, no? Yay, yo. Bueno, me encanta que te encante como escribo, je je. Actualice mas rapido, no? Contenta? Besos._**

**_Sugoi momo Candy: Que viva el Tatsuki, indeed! A Lyn-san la voy a sopapear por que no dejo review. Kaede es Kaede y Tsuzuki es Tsuzuki, pero Tatsumi parece tener problemas para decidir cual es cual, y eso es todo lo que tenes que saber por ahora. Besos._**

**_dodger-chan: Thank you for forgiving me! You have no idea how scared I was! I'm always waiting for your review because you say the nicest things, so don't let me down this time, lol. Huggles and I hope you like this chapter as well._**

**_firedraygon: Thanks. Things are getting lively, aren't they? I hope you liked this chappy as well. Hugs._**

**_JA NE PEOPLE!_**


	9. EIGHT

**DEAD RECKONING**

**CHAPTER EIGHT**

Who would have imagined, thought Tatsumi somberly, that realizing Tsuzuki had feelings for him wouldn't be the most joyous event in his entire life? Why was he sitting limply on the floor, the kitchen counter being his only source of support, and staring dumbly at the door Tsuzuki had slammed shut a moment before, as if someone had just told him that his puppy had died a horrible death? Why wasn't he running after the other man to smother him with kisses? It was very simple, really: you don't spend every waking hour of your abnormally long life convincing yourself that what you feel is wrong, sick and perverted, just to accept and welcome those same feelings from the one you loved and idolized. Your mind would wonder, was it that you who was wrong from the beginning, and it was always ok to feel like that, or is it perhaps that the other is not as pure and innocent as you thought him to be? And then you would weight all your suffering, all the pain you've caused yourself over all those years and you would refuse to believe that all that pain had been in vain. That's exactly what was going on inside Tatsumi's mind at that moment. He was remembering all the times he had hated himself for believing that Tsuzuki was coming on to him, all the times he'd stared at his hands in disgust for having stolen a touch Tsuzuki had to have found intrusive and disgusting, all the times he hadn't been able to sleep because of the deranged dreams that would plague him. He couldn't allow himself to believe that all of that had been unjustified. It would turn his suffering into a sick joke.

But it had been Tsuzuki who had kissed him. There was no way he could overlook that, or the frustrated and angry reaction from the amethyst eyed man when he'd broken the kiss. Tsuzuki had wanted to kiss him. Where did that leave him? It left him broken, torn inside, because it was either admitting that he had been the biggest of fools in the history of mankind, or he had to admit that the one he loved was as dirty, as perverted and sick as him, which is, sadly, what his mind chose to believe without really asking him for permission first. Because, suddenly, all those memories begun tainting with something that he couldn't quite put into words, but that was stronger than anything he had felt in a very long time. Because now, his mind was starting to remember Tsuzuki under a different light. Now it seemed to him that Tsuzuki had really been coming on to him all those times, that he had enticed all those touches and conveyed all those dreams, drawing him further into his misery, making him impossible to fight his own deviation. Suddenly, it seemed to him that the amethyst eyed man had consciously and purposely fueled his compulsion, that he had been most interested in turning it into the obsession it had become over the years. Their whole history together now appeared orchestrated, and he felt manipulated, like a puppet. It made even more sense, he realized, - if anything could, under such denial-driven premise- if you threw more people into the equation; like the Earl, for example or, Enma forbid, Muraki. Why was it that people always went pathologically crazy around Tsuzuki? One way or the other, everything always turned around him, didn't it? And he was always the victim, wasn't he? Wasn't that suspicious? No one could be that unlucky in their acquaintances.

It's not, however, like this line of thought was actually easy for him to bare; it was just easier than the alternative, less scary and less humiliating. But again, Tatsumi's world was crumbling around him anyway; so much so, that it was affecting him physically. Aside from the fact that he hadn't the strength, nor the will to move from where he was, his tongue was swollen, his mouth felt salty, and his eyes were bulging. In fact, his insides felt swollen and salty, if that was even possible. It was as if all the tears he had refused, and still refused, to shed, were drowning him from the inside out. He figured he had more than enough reason to cry, the biggest being the other memories, that weren't as bitter or tortuous; these were blurry, lacking in precisions such as time-lines or details, but they were even more painful. These were the ones from when he had found peace in Tsuzuki's company, when he had dared to hope that not everything he felt was dark and forbidden. They had been small, inconsequential moments, in which his love for Tsuzuki had been as pure as the recipient and he had trusted he would be able to beat himself into reason. They hurt more than anything, they tasted like lies no matter how he chose to look at the situation.

It was done. No matter what the truth was, Tatsumi felt betrayed. He couldn't just stop loving Tsuzuki, that just wasn't possible; so his love started twisting and morphing into something darker, even deeper that, mixed with a healthy portion of anger and bitterness, was beginning to seem a lot like hate. Idly, he noticed that, amidst their short discussion, either Tsuzuki or him had smashed one of the breakfast cups into the ground. Small, white pieces of porcelain laid now shattered around him. He hadn't noticed it before, but he thought it was fascinating, definitively appropriate. With an incredible effort, Tatsumi stretched his arm to pick one piece and roll it around his fingers. As if he had drawn energy from it, the kagetsukai started to get up. He didn't thought about it, nor where he'd go once he begun walking. He gave up any semblance of control he might have had left, he gave up his will to that small piece of porcelain. A determination that was most certainly not his own took over his mind and body, and he blindly made his way towards the hall, towards the stairs, as if he was actually going somewhere, as if he had something to do.

* * *

The sight of the house made Tsuzuki frown. In all fairness, it was a beautiful house, set in a beautiful scenery, but just looking at it sent shivers down his spine. It had what is commonly known as a 'bad vibe'. It wasn't a place that he, as a Shinigami, would go on vacation. He had visited many places like that one, for sure, but always during working hours. In his expert opinion, Tsuzuki concluded, that house was most definitively haunted. He shrugged. There wasn't a point in questioning Tatsumi's choice of lodging; he wouldn't have been able to understand the Kagetsukai's motives even if the man had been acting like himself.

He stopped in front of the door, tried to remember everything he'd decided to say and, taking a deep breath, he posed his hand on the handle. It was time to face the music. It wouldn't be easy, he knew. For one, he was sure that he would loose his courage the moment he laid eyes on Tatsumi. He could already see himself stuttering like an idiot, feeling inadequate and undeserving, like he had no right to demand anything from the other man. Second, Tatsumi wasn't really aware of their 'fight', so he couldn't just hold on to his anger to avoid obstacle number one. The last time they'd seen each other, everything had been 'ok' between them; he would gain nothing by biting the other man's head off for no apparent reason. He had to find a balance, and equilibrium wasn't something Tsuzuki had ever found easy to achieve. No, it wouldn't be easy, but he wasn't completely lost. An entire night of meditating about their relationship had not only given him reasons to be angry; he had also remembered why he loved the other man in the first place, and that was what he had to hold on to, that and the knowledge that, if he didn't do this, of he didn't straighten things out, they would never be together. With that in mind, Tsuzuki opened the door.

There was no one at the front desk, so he took a hesitant step inside. His plans to go looking for Tatsumi straight away were interrupted when he noticed just how heavy the atmosphere was in there. The "bad vibe" he'd sensed outside was nothing compared to the repelling quality of the reception. What the hell had Tatsumi been thinking, registering there? It made Tsuzuki feel sick, it made him want to leave at once. Maybe, Tsuzuki realized, Tatsumi couldn't feel it. The house didn't want him there, it was kicking him out. It wasn't the first time it happened, though, and he'd never been intimidated by a house before. The house didn't like him? Tough luck. It would have to stand him there whether it liked it or not.

* * *

He could have followed that path with his eyes closed. It not only felt like he'd walked those same steps all his life, it seemed like he was going through a sort of messed up choreography. He walked into his room- or so he thought at the time- knowing that Tsuzuki was due to come back any moment now, knowing, in a way, what would happen when he did, even if he couldn't quite put it into words. He never questioned that knowledge or his acceptance of it. There was, hidden under the feelings that he was supposed to be feeling, a sense of anticipation that was at the same time dread. He existed only for what was to come, he realized. The rest of his life seemed now only a means of getting him where he was now. A part of his mind wanted to be confused by all this, but it was drowned by the will he had allowed to take over him. He wondered if he would be able to simply step aside and watch himself, since his body was no longer attached to his soul. He was no longer himself, only a witness.

He could almost hear Tsuzuki climbing up the stairs, could, almost, tap his fingers to the rhythm of it. It felt a bit like listening to one of those songs you've heard a thousand times before, that still manage to make you want to move to it, that always leave you breathless as you feel the climax approaching. The analogy felt perfectly to the point, even though Tatsumi knew he had never allowed himself to even think about wanting to dance to anything. The most curious part of this... memory -because he was sure that was what it was- was that he could not quite remember it. Tsuzuki's face was becoming more and more of a blur, to the point he couldn't quite tell if his eyes had ever been purple, or the most striking shade of blue. Even the name, Tsuzuki, was starting to loose meaning, to become alien, just like when you repeat a word so much it stops making any sense. Yet none of that mattered, really; in his mind, the figure of the other might have been blending into something he wasn't entirely sure he recognized, but his feelings were still there, and this lack of control, this dominating will that had possessed him, this knowing what he would do without knowing it, or who he was, made him feel liberated. Soon, very, very soon, he would get the rest he'd longed for.

Of course there was a part of him, not quite functional anymore, that realized there was something awfully wrong with the picture, a sort of ringing in his ears, that whispered there was something off with the scenario, even a voice that screamed at him from the depths of his soul that he should snap out of it. He also remembered this in his forgotten memory turned premonition, and he didn't remember heeding it; so he didn't.

The door opened slowly. It was no wonder he had been found so easily; not only he hadn't meant to hide, he couldn't conceive for the other to look for him in any of the many other rooms of the house. It was here, it had been here, it would be here. He slipped into his role as naturally as he breathed, and turned his face to the window, where the morning sun unveiled the landscape for him to contemplate one last time. With the first step the other took inside, the blue eyed man knew there was no more time for contemplation, confusion or remembrance. He did, however, indulged in a tiny bit of improvisation when, unable to stop himself, he uttered:

"I've missed you."

* * *

Kaede hugged himself and stared at the horizon, his breath hitching from barely contained sobs. How many times before had he been through this? Yet it still tore him up inside. It was curious, most of the time he felt dead inside, his only tie to life being these moments, waiting for them, remembering them, and when they came, he discovered how much pain he was still able to feel. He could still feel used, he could still feel unloved and despised. If they were to stop, though, he'd have no more reason to stay alive, and the prospect of dying had never been one that he refused. Why didn't he put a stop to it, he didn't know. It was his decision, and he knew it.

He wasn't sure of who was using who. The other forced him to live in the hell he'd gotten himself into, never giving him a moment of peace, because even between these moments he haunted him. But the truth was, he had never done anything to help the other out of that hell. He didn't want him to, not because he thought he deserved that inhumane suffering, but because he knew that, once he found his way out, Kaede would loose him forever. So he waited and, when the moment came, he played his part. It wasn't hard; the feelings were still there, the pain, the love, the loneliness. He played it and let himself be played. His only regret was that poor stranger, but that guilt wasn't enough to stop him. He knew by now why the other chose them; they might have been strangers, but they weren't innocent. They were just like him and, even when Kaede always harbored the hope that one of them would learn the lesson before the end, they never did. At least, he hoped, he was sparing some other person from having to go through what he was going through.

Bracing himself, he turned his head to look at the house, their house, the one they'd built from scratch and that had held all their dreams at one point, the house where everything had finally gone to hell; literally. Now came the hardest of all scenes, and he knew it. He knew the sequence by heart now and, while what was coming always hurt him the most, was what he feared the most, it was also what he spend more time waiting for. It was sick, but it was all he had, all he'd ever had from the other, and he could do nothing but to take it. It was just about time to go back.

He was tired of it, of the game they were playing, but the thought of seeing it end left him short of breath. It was his life- if you could even call it a life- and he would not escape it. In a twisted sort of way, he wanted it.

* * *

When Tsuzuki had realized the size of the house and its intricate disposition, he had believed it would take him a while to find Tatsumi. He hadn't even been sure the other man was actually there; the house was deadly silent, to the point where it even drowned the sound of the see just a few yards away. That, plus the atmosphere, caused his first steps to be somewhat hesitant, probing. Right away, however, he noticed something else about the house that had him rushing up the stairs in no time. The shadows; they were the ones crushing the air around him, suffocating him. Under the ever still rays of the sun, they swirled and danced as if created by candlelight, and they moved in the direction of the upper floor, where they were more noticeable. As he climbed the steps, he saw how those shadows override the sunlight, until it seemed it was night, rather than morning, all gathering oppressively in one particular point, the center of the storm and, surely, where their master was, commanding them. Again he paused before opening the door. He had recognized that the house was not at all pleased with his presence, and now he wondered if Tatsumi, too, had put his shadows to the task of getting rid of him, or if it had been a mere coincidence. Whatever it was, for the Kagetsukai to so carelessly make use of his power, Tsuzuki knew there had to be something equally as dangerous or unwanted to provoke him.

That was why he was so surprised when, upon crossing the threshold, he found Tatsumi staring peacefully out the window. Still, there was something about his expression that filled him with unease. His eyes were dull, his face set in a sort of resigned acceptance and his stance was that of someone who had been broken. On the other hand, the room, though free of the thick shadows that almost prevent him from getting there, felt even heavier than before. It almost felt like walking into a different dimension, a place where time is of little to no importance because it has been forever trapped in one moment. Tatsumi didn't turn, for what Tsuzuki thought, at first, that he hadn't realized of his presence. An instant later, though, he spoke.

"I've missed you."

To his ears, Tatsumi's voice sounded most definitively strained, but there was something else, a ring to it that wasn't quite Tatsumi's, as if the sound had been coming out in Stereo or something. The words themselves were something of a comfort to him, though, and he managed to smile.

"Baka, you're the one who left." Tsuzuki took a few steps towards the other man. For some reason, there was a voice in his mind telling him to be cautious, so he kept some distance. "You can't get rid of me that easily, though."

He wasn't sure if his attempt to lighten the mood had been lost to Tatsumi, or if he'd simply failed miserably, but the blue eyed man didn't answer him, didn't even turn to acknowledge him. After a long moment of dreadful silence, Tsuzuki took another step forward.

"You shouldn't have come," said the blue eyed man, this time with a much stronger, commanding tone that rooted Tsuzuki to the spot. He had, at some level, expected those words before getting there, but after the first statement they could do nothing if not confuse him. "You should have staid away."

"I couldn't do that," replied Tsuzuki defensively. "I really think we need to talk and, honestly, I just couldn't wait."

"Talk?" This time Tatsumi did turn, and his face showed itself as incredulous and angry as his voice. "You want to talk! About what?"

Tsuzuki swallowed hard.

"About us," he mumbled tentatively. "About you and me. You need to talk, Tatsumi. I can see that you're not alright. I suspected there was something wrong with you, but now..." It was true. Now that he had the other man in front of him, he wasn't so concerned about the future of their relationship as he was for him. He had never seen Tatsumi like that. He wasn't sure how to describe the state the Kagetsukai was in, but it just wasn't right.

"Oh, I see," Tatsumi answered in an eerie calm tone. "I'm not ok, am I? And tell me, what's so wrong with me that has you so worried?"

Now it was Tatsumi's turn to take a step towards him, though it was anything but hesitant. Only a few inches apart, Tatsumi's frame stood menacingly over him, causing Tsuzuki to really, carefully think his reply. With the kindest, gentlest expression he could muster, Tsuzuki rested one hand on the other man's shoulder and said:

"I am not sure, but I can guess it is my fault. Just... let me mend it?"

Tatsumi turned his eyes to the hand resting on his shoulder and stared at it as if he'd never seen something like it before. His eyes were wide, astonished, and something told Tsuzuki it might not have been the best move ever. Before he could attempt to remove it, though, Tatsumi posed his right hand on top of it, holding it in place. His free hand, surprisingly enough, went around his waist, pulling him closer. Close enough, actually, to see quite clearly the hollow, mad hint tainting the soft blue of his eyes as it clouded Tatsumi's gaze.

* * *

The moment the other touched him, as innocent as that touch had been intended to look like, the last bit of sanity Tatsumi had been able to retain so far slipped away from his fingers. In a mixture of outrage, apprehension and lust, he stopped the other from pulling away and, needing more contact even though it was burning his skin, he circled the other man's waist with his free arm to pull him closer. He didn't know what he wanted more, to kiss him or to hurt him; but he needed him close.

A strange feeling of exhilaration invaded his being. He was free, he realized, to do what he'd been wanting to do for such a long time. There was no longer need to justify those wants, to try to reconcile something as loathing as those needs with the love he felt to be so pure, Neither slowly, nor tentatively, he killed the scarce distance between them and locked his lips with the other's. He tried to be gentle, wanting in a way to recreate that first kiss they'd shared earlier. But that one kiss did no longer feel like the first one; just one more to add to the list of first moments of realization, if that even made sense. And this one kiss, the one he was forcing on the other's unresponsive lips, also felt new... different; wrong and oh so very right at the same time. He closed his eyes then, partly to fully take in the sensation, partly to shut out whatever it was about the other man's that fueled the feeling that something was off with the way things were going.

After a long moment of shock, or at least that was what Tatsumi guessed had stopped him, the other timidly returned the kiss. That only enraged him, of course; mainly because he didn't want him to. He didn't want the other man to confirm his suspicions that he indeed wanted that too, instead of pushing him away. It didn't help, either, that his response had been so tender compared to his aggressive initiative. So he turned it even rougher, nipping, almost fully biting the other's lower lip until he drew both blood and a whimper. Then the other man did try to free himself; it was a reflex, Tatsumi noted, but he refused to let him go, crushing him tighter against him and moving his mouth to the other's neck.

"Tatsumi?" came the other's questioning voice, that sounded a bit shaky with uncertainty and, yes, fear.

The utterance of his name bothered him; the voice that had uttered it bothered him. It was all wrong. But, most of all, the tone used, the evidence of what he was causing the other to feel, brought a knot to his throat, yet he couldn't stop and that, too, bothered him.

"You want this," he mumbled angrily, in between 'kisses' that where leaving angry red marks on the other's skin.

The other man gasped as Tatsumi pushed him violently against the nearest wall. He was starting to see red. It made, obviously, no sense but, though he felt compelled to do as much damage as possible, to take the control of the situation away from the other, to submit him, every one of his actions seemed to be hurting him more than the other man. The wince he'd just enticed had him wincing as well and, with his breath hitching at his throat, Tatsumi did the greatest of efforts to get his anger under control. He walked up to the other, whose big, baffled eyes were focused on him, and pressed the length of his body against him. As gently as it was possible for him at that point, he buried his head on the nook of the other's neck, trying to steady himself. Unwittingly, he gripped the other man's shirt and pulled, tugged at it until he was able to slide one hand inside, touching skin, up his chest, while the other hand fumbled with his belt, barely registering the way his body protested when his fingers inadvertently graced his erection.

"Stop," the other whispered hoarsely. "What… What are you doing?"

The other was not hard, he noted dully, and even seemed to try to wriggle out of the way when, once his own pants had been undone, his now free hand moved to work on his. He tried to be gentler, then. He wasn't doing it for himself, even if he was obviously enjoying it. But the other was not making things easy. He was starting to struggle more now, more forcefully, and it was difficult for Tatsumi not to use enough strength himself to cause pain. He knew the other wanted this, fight and all. It was part of the act, he realized. He needed to be the victim or he wouldn't enjoy it. Never mind what that did to his mind. He wanted the other to admit it, to say it, to stop playing with him.

"You want this!" he hissed into the other's ear, as if trying to convince him, but he only struggled more. Panic seized him, not because of any implication of what he was doing, but at the thought that the other might actually free himself, that he wouldn't be able to see this through. He couldn't stop, he couldn't let the other man stop him. Stopping would be thinking; about what he was doing, about why he was doing it. Stopping would be facing reality again, and he just couldn't.

Tatsumi decided to kiss him again, to stop the small whimpers that had started coming out of his mouth, and pushed him against the wall again, and again, and again, each time harder than before, to see if it would get the point across, if it made the other stop moving. But the other did not stop moving, did not stop whimpering. In fact, his whimpers turned into cries, muffled and hoarse. He shook the man again and heard the loud bang of his head bumping against the hard surface of the wall, that caused him to go limp in his arms long enough for Tatsumi to let go of his shoulders and attempt to hold him to stop him from falling. When he did this, however, something hard made contact with his face, and he stumbled backwards, fell to the floor a few feet away his right ear ringing. The entire right side of his face stung, bad, but he didn't take notice of it. He just stared at the other- Tsuzuki, right?- in shock. His amethyst eyes were wide, his pupils dilated, and he was gasping, looking as astonished as Tatsumi felt. The Kagetsukai opened his mouth to speak, but Tsuzuki just lounged forwards and punched him again.

_**Tsuzuku**_

_**A/N: I'm not entirely sure whether we can still leave author's notes, so I'll make this one my last. I can now answer reviews (someone will review, right?) personally, but if you don't have an account or just don't feel like logging in and want me to answer a question or something, you can just leave me an e-mail or an LJ username (I love LJ) and I'll get in touch, ok? The reason for my prolonged absence was pretty much outside my control… meaning, I had to learn to find that control and I seem to have done that. I never lost interest on any of my stories. I love them to bits, they are my babies, and you have no idea how much I've suffered being away from them this past year. Don't give up on me yet, please? **_


	10. NINE

**DEAD RECKONING**

**CHAPTER NINE**

Tsuzuki didn't really quite understand what was happening. Granted, he had more than enough experience with psychotic rapists to realize that was exactly how Tatsumi was acting like, and it sure would have looked like that to anyone else but, to him, that concept made absolutely no sense. But, whatever it is that you call it when someone you love is the one trying to force himself on you, it would have pretty similar consequences, if not worse, to rape, unless he did something about it soon.

He had been so, so close to reacting the way he always did. As some martyr for an unknown cause, exposing his neck like a submissive dog begging not to be harmed. It wasn't that he didn't know he was one of the most powerful Shinigami out there. He knew he could fight back; he'd always known it. But something always held him back when the danger was only to him. As if he deserved such treatment. It was what he did best, wasn't it? Always secretly hoping someone else came to the rescue. Except Hisoka was miles away and Tatsumi… well, no need to explain that one.

Maybe it had been the fact that it wasn't the near-rape situation he was used to, maybe it had been all the introspection he'd been doing lately, but something snapped in him.

He'd punched Tatsumi square in the face out of sheer panic, really. The first time, anyway. He had just needed to get Tatsumi off of him and hadn't been able to come up with a better idea. It proved to be rather effective and, in the few seconds between the first and second hit, he had found enough presence of mind to conclude that Tatsumi had actually deserved to be punched. So, he did it again.

Now, Tatsumi's crumpled figure lay before him, and he had to contain himself from doing more harm. His blue eyes were even less focused than before, but there was a sort of despaired awareness in his expression.

"What the fuck was that!" he bellowed, his voice several pitches higher than intended. Still, he more or less knew the answer to that, and wasn't quite ready to hear it, so he quickly reformulated, "What the hell has gotten into you!" Even the tone was more to his liking.

And, come to think of it, it was a good question. Studying Tatsumi more carefully, the question actually became imperative. His hair and clothes in disarray, face flushed, back hunched. The man in front of him looked broken, overwhelmed. This man in front of him did not look like Tatsumi at all.

The other man crouched closer to him, stretching his fingers to grasp the fabric of his pants, but Tsuzuki effectively ducked him, recognizing the same mad determination in his blue eyes, if only a bit deterred, and causing the man to hit the ground face first. Tsuzuki winced in sympathy, and hesitated to go to his aid. Maybe he was wrong, but he had to know for sure.

"Who are you?"

The door slammed open then and, as if on cue, a young man walked in, panting. He stumbled clumsily towards Tatsumi, who gasped and backed against the wall. Tsuzuki had never seen Tatsumi look frightened. Never. He didn't like it.

"Katsu… Katsuhiko?"

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tatsumi cowered against the wall. His eyes danced from one to the other franticly, pain spreading fast across his chest, his throat and temples. Raw pain that clawed at the corners of his mind and seemed to want to shed some light to the dark nothing his thoughts had become. It was a searing pain, nothing like the swollen numbness Tsuzuki's hit had caused. It was more like something was trying to break through the fabric of his soul. He gritted his teeth, fighting reality as it forced itself back into his senses.

Two Kaedes, two Tsuzukis. And none of himself.

It was wrong, everything was wrong. He had just been starting to feel guilty for something he hadn't had a chance to do. He would have done it, and while knowing he had been capable would have been enough to destroy him, his guilt went beyond that. The image of Tsuzuki in front of him had started to shift. There were memories of blood and screams and pleads juxtaposing reality. And now this. The utterance of a name that was his, but wasn't. Tatsumi… Katsuhiko… He was both, he was lost.

He remembered, coming to this secluded spot of the world, carrying loads of dreams and just enough money to get them started. Kaede and him. How everything started to look up, how they managed to fulfill each and every one of those dreams. He remembered how hard it had become, then, to live under the same roof. His unnatural attraction getting worse and worse, their bliss only clouding his judgment further. He remembered his father, admonishing him, warning him about what would befall him should he not perform his duty to his family. Kaede hadn't helped, seemed determined to make him fall into temptation. All these memories were so real to him as his days in JuOhCho. It was all the same, nothing made any sense.

But all the happiness, all the hardships and frustration were nothing, nothing compared to what he'd just done, or had been about to do. He remembered doing it, too. Over and over again. To Kaede, to Tsuzuki. He was a monster.

The pain grew worse. He couldn't breathe. One of them, whoever it was, knelt next to him, looking desperate, anguished, because of him. The other stood back, looking confused and worried. He couldn't stand the sight of either. In a moment of clarity, as if both his selves had become aware of everything, he remembered what he was supposed to do now. He was going to escape, to run away from the monster that he really was, and hopefully find peace. But he knew it was a show, his punishment, since there was no peace for the likes of him. The hell he deserved had finally caught up to him. Tatsumi had eluded it for decades, but it was here.

He pushed the one in front of him out of the way and bolted up, rushing out the door. Distantly, he could hear his name being called. The pain made him clumsy, but he managed to make it downstairs without falling. He noticed the shadows, swirling madly, and with them his dilemma. This time, it would take more than a dozen feet fall to do the trick. He'd work something out, though. He always did.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Gushoushin bore matching expressions of concern and constriction on their faces, as the two chickens watched over Hisoka's shoulder as he went through their findings, spread over Tatsumi's own desk, as well as every bit of rubbish they had been able to find in is office, which, as you know, was not much. For his part, Hisoka's brow had knitted into a deep frown, that kept on getting deeper and deeper as he read, making Watari consider the possibility of someone contracting the muscles of their face enough to move their scalp to where their nose should be. The blonde could definitively understand why his companions were looking so troubled, though. After all, half the findings had been his own and, if the rest of the pile was half as alarming as his stock, they were in deep shit, to put it mildly.

"I don't get it!" said the elder Gushoushin in a shriek, voice a few pitches higher than usual. "How come this guy's been dead for five whole years and only now we notice?"

Hisoka shook his head, his green eyes never leaving the copies he was holding.

"Look at this." He flipped to one article to the next, the newspaper's thick, ink-stained letters barely intelligible on the contrast of the still warm sheet, thanks to the cheap office printer. "All of these articles are from around the same dates, only different years, the details are practically the same. The locals even believe the place is haunted! How is it possible we only hear from this now?"

Watari sighed tiredly. It was a good question, for sure, but they didn't have the time to analyze the holes in the department's system. That would take them two lifetimes. He waved a hand at the five folders spread open across the table in front of them, trying to get the conversation back on track.

"Five men, ages going from twenty five to thirty, all perfectly healthy and apparently successful, from all over the freaking country, with absolutely nothing in common, just decide one day to go over to Yokoshima and jump off the highest cliff." He threw his hands up in the air. "Madness, I say! Maybe there's some virus going around? You know, some really slow virus that no one knows about and it just happens that these five gits were at the same playing ground some twenty years ago?"

He thought he had something there. His theory made absolute sense in his mind and even 003 hooted her encouragement over his shoulder. But there was a long moment of silence from everyone else, all looking at him with slightly wide eyes, before the younger Gushoushin went on as if no one had spoken at all, leaving Watari annoyed and deflated. Hey, stranger things had happened. They had to think outside the box!

"Four souls got here, one didn't. The first one, at that. I think it's fairly obvious what's happening." There was a slight tone of reproach as he said this, staring pointedly at the scientist. "The following four were possessed."

Well, he wasn't one to consider the obvious. The flaw of genius, really.

"Watari-san just said, though," interjected Hisoka, looking indecisive. "That there was nothing to tie the five together. There are some similarities, like the fact that all of them were successful, but that's spreading it too thin. One was a very rich entrepreneur, while another owned a bookshop! If it's a spirit possession, rather than a demonic one, shouldn't there be something to draw the intruder to their victims? Something they shared?"

The Gushoushin brothers nodded and both moved to hover over the files at the exact same time, with twin-exclusive precision.

"There could be a million things they shared, though. Maybe they liked the same food, or the same rock band. Maybe they hated the same politician. Anyway, whatever they might have shared, would not show up on these files, would it?"

Now it was Watari's turn to stare and blink. Who kills himself over a politician? Hisoka threw his papers on top of the folders disdainfully and groaned.

"We can read these stupid things all day and we'd still have nothing."

"Nah-ah," Watari beamed at him, causing 003 to hoot happily again. "We don't know the why, or the how, but we do know one thing."

"And what's that?" the young boy asked, half-hopeful, half-disbelieving.

"All five of them were acting really strange the week before they died. They all abandoned their jobs and left their home without telling anyone. Well, Katsuhiko actually returned to a place he'd lived at, but he had been living in Osaka for six months when it happened." Then he grabbed the copies of the articles and lined them up in chronological order for the rest to see, before pointing to each one of the fuzzy pictures portraying the cliff from different angles. "And look here, see?" In each image, a dark, house-shaped shadow could be seen at a distance. "Where have you seen this before?"

Three sets of eyes squinted at the pictures, while Watari stood unnaturally straight and smug. Then, he heard Hisoka gasp and the boy dug desperately between piles and piles of paper, coming out with a previously considered useless brochure clipping. He smoothed it on the table, next to the third picture, which happened to be the clearest, and gasped again.

"Oh, my God! You're right! Watari, you're a genius!"

To what the blond just sighed and patted the boy's arm.

"I know, bon. I know." Watari paused to rest a finger to his chin. "I wonder how much it would hurt to fall down a cliff, if you can actually live to feel it. Tatsumi's going to need a whole load of aspirins, I gather."

_Tsuzuku_

_A/N: I know, really short chapter. The story is nearing the end anyway, which is partly why it's taking me so long to update. I'm trying to do my best and I'm never satisfied with the result. I'm sure anyone still reading must be envious of anyone who'll come across the story after it's finished, lol. I'm really sorry. Thanks to all of you who stuck to this, though._


	11. TEN

_**A/N: Another short chapter. I guess now that this should have been part of the previous one. If you ask, I'll add it and make just one long chapter. I didn't do it because then it wouldn't count as an update and some people would have missed it. **_

_**Sort of off topic, I was going through my old stories the other day, reading through reviews, and I felt really sad, because I used to have this tight bond with my reviewers. Both because of new rules and my disappearance last year, I lost that, and it's really sad. SAD I TELL YOU! **_

_**Anyway, ENJOY!**_

**DEAD RECKONING**

**CHAPTER TEN**

He probably would have run after the blue eyed man of his own accord, really. The situation certainly entitled that he followed him. But it was more of a chain reaction, of doing exactly what everyone else was doing, that had him rushing after Tatsumi, closely following the stranger that had prompted the run in the first place. They lost him before they even got a chance to leave the house. The shadows that had impeded his entrance were making it almost impossible to see anything beyond his own nose at that point.

In spite of his previous conclusions, in spite of this stranger calling Tatsumi by another name, the man he was trying to catch up to had to be Tatsumi, his Tatsumi. He knew very well Kagetsukai were rare and so much control of the shadows couldn't have been gained by anyone but an expert. He only had heard of Tatsumi having such ability, and the existence of a master had been hinted at in a few occasions, but that was it. He couldn't have been totally wrong in his assumption that they were dealing with someone else, though, given that the stranger had, indeed, used another name. The only option that made a bit of sense was a possession and, while it was a bit ludicrous, considering how they usually took place, he would have to run with that theory for now.

By the time the shadows cleared, there was no sign of Tatsumi anywhere. Tsuzuki would never have imagined Tatsumi could be so fast. He'd never really consciously associated Tatsumi with any physical activity. He was starting to realise how much of Tatsumi he didn't know. The stranger seemed to know what he was doing, because he rushed out the door without hesitation, and a definitive destination. Tsuzuki, tired of that little game, reached, seized the young man by the arm and stopped him after a few yards of indecision. The other struggled a bit, but Tsuzuki didn't give him a chance to escape.

"Let go!" the other cried angrily. Tsuzuki just tightened his grip, glaring. "I don't have time for this!"

"We're not going anywhere until you tell me what's going on." He hissed a bit more aggressively than what was customary for him. "So you better make the time!" The young man seemed to relent a bit, eyeing him with mistrust. Tsuzuki matched his gaze without hesitation. Why did you call him Katsuhiko?"

The other shook his head, frowning in frustration.

"Tatsumi, Katsuhiko… He's in danger and… I can't let him go yet!"

The amethyst eyed man let go of the other instinctively. He watched dumbly as he resumed his race, with more questions than before. He hadn't mentioned Tatsumi's name, had he? If this guy thought Tatsumi was someone else, why would he know his real name? What did he mean Tatsumi was in danger? From their little encounter, he'd have guessed Tatsumi was the danger himself! What was more, what did that guy mean by not being able to let him go, "yet"?

Tsuzuki started after him, a sinking feeling growing at the pit of his stomach. This was getting weirder by the second, and he had a hunch it was bad weird. Really, really bad weird.

* * *

Tatsumi stared down at the waves crashing against the very familiar cliff before him. The sight had cleared more than one doubt for him and he seemed to have come to an understanding with himself. The part of him that was Katsuhiko was so much his own that the conflict within him died down the moment he put all the pieces of the puzzle together. Katsuhiko knew how he felt, he knew what Katsuhiko was thinking. 

He was going to hate himself for what he was about to do, but hey, he hated himself anyway. At least this way he'd stop hurting everyone he loved.

Kaede stopped behind him, panting, and Tatsumi turned his head slightly to look at him. There was an expression of pure fear and desperation on his face.

"Katsuhiko," he breathed, "Not yet, please… I…"

The part of him that was Katsuhiko wanted to throw up, seeing what Kaede had turned into because of him. He was begging for the crumbs he wouldn't get this time around, crumbs that were more like treacherous shards of glass, but he wanted them anyway. Katsuhiko knew it was because it was all he'd ever given him.

Tsuzuki reached them shortly after, worry and confusion etched deep in his features. The first time he'd stood there, when he had actually believed he would put an end to his madness, that raw guilt had been all he'd needed to push him off the edge. The following times, it had been a sort of reflex, it had been out of his control. Now, when his original intentions could actually be fulfilled, it was with calmed determination that he turned, ignoring Kaede, to meet his end.

* * *

He was frozen in his tracks at the sight of Tatsumi standing so close the edge. He could reason that there was no danger at all. Whether Tatsumi was aware of the fact or not, if the blue eyed man took the plunge and jumped, it would be painful, but nothing more. Yet Tsuzuki knew the feeling that drove people to do such things. He'd been there, and he wasn't sure what was more horrible to his eyes; the death of someone at their own hands, or the emotions that led them to it. There was something on Tatsumi's expression that convinced him that was exactly what he was feeling, and Tsuzuki found himself short of breath. 

The young man said something he couldn't hear but Tatsumi did not reply. He turned around and gazed at Tsuzuki with a small smile that sent shivers down his spine.

"What now?" he said, way too calmly for Tsuzuki's comfort. "What are you going to do, Tsuzuki-san?"

Was he supposed to **do** anything? Was he, of all people, supposed to talk Tatsumi out of jumping? Not that he wouldn't, but he doubted he had much credibility in the subject. Maybe he could just repeat, like a parrot, what had been directed at him countless times, but he doubted anyone would buy it. He could, however, distract the blue eyed man. He figured it was the best he could do, anyway. That, and hope the man would come back to his senses, which was well overdue.

"About what, Tatsumi?" he said cautiously, suppressing any hint of apprehension or residual anger.

Tatsumi snorted humourlessly, reminding Tsuzuki of the beginnings of their ill-fated conversation, just a while back..

"Well, you **do **have a Shinigami out of control on your hands, don't you?"

Tsuzuki saw the young man blanch visibly at the words. He couldn't care. Tatsumi had a strong point there, but Tsuzuki was not ready to deal with that bit of information, nor accept it.

"That's not true. Tatsumi, you…" He threw his hands helplessly in the air. "You're angry, and confused but… I think there's more to this. I think someone, or something is controlling you. This is not your…"

"Fault?" he finished sardonically. "Confused, I might be; angry, for sure, but I'm not being controlled. Don't you see? This **is **me!" He gestured at himself and, though his grin only grew, with a tint of malice, his tone was slightly desperate.

Tsuzuki shook his head, shutting his eyes tight.

"Then calm down. Lets talk about this, lets…"

"No!" Tatsumi bellowed, deeper than Tsuzuki could remember his voice ever being. "Enough with the fucking talks! If you won't do anything, fine! Stand there and watch. I couldn't care less!"

In one swift motion, Tatsumi grabbed the young man by the neck with one hand and lifted him almost a whole feet from the ground. The young man gasped, and kicked, but his struggle was half-hearted. The shadows were back, more evident under the sunlight, crawling up Tatsumi's legs, threatening to devour him. Tsuzuki could just stare in horror as Tatsumi squeezed the life out of him without any show of hesitation. He had seen Tatsumi like that before, but it had always been reserved for those who dared hurting anyone he cared about. He used to feel slightly uncomfortable by the blue eyed man's cool-headed violence. Now he was scared shitless.

* * *

It hurt, so much, that Kaede wouldn't even fight. There was a point in his madness when he would think that removing him from his life would end his torment, there was a time when he would have undoubtedly killed Kaede without hesitation. It was not this time. His eyes gazed deep into his victim's, as if trying to explain what he could not, as if trying to apologize when he knew there was no way he'd find forgiveness. He just squeezed, and the other took it, his kicks a mere reflex from a body that hadn't caught on his owner's will to be killed by the one he loved. And though he couldn't tear his eyes away from the man he had destroyed, his attention was focused on Tsuzuki's every breath, in his stance, adjusting his pressure to his timing, hoping he'd react soon, lest his plan fail or Kaede die out of sheer willingness. 

Tsuzuki took a step closer to him then, careful, shaking slightly, but with an expression that told Tatsumi his feelings were not enough to let him kill an innocent man. Good.

"Tatsumi, put him down."

The command in his voice was unmistakable. Tatsumi couldn't keep the smile from his face, albeit a sad one.

"Or what?"

"You'll kill him!"

"Then stop me." _Please, stop me. _

Tsuzuki was good, really good. Tatsumi didn't even see him take the ofuda out, and he noticed curiously how the blow actually drove both of them away from the edge, rather that push them from it. Kaede slipped from his fingers and, in a second, Tsuzuki was teleporting to catch him and then back away from him. Tatsumi laughed deep in his throat, conjuring his shadows closer.

"You are _so_ predictable, so reliable. You cannot save him, you know?" he taunted, his shadows inching closer to the pair. Tsuzuki drew back a bit. "You cannot save yourself. Don't you get it? It's not your eyes that make you a monster." Tsuzuki's sharp intake of breath let him know he'd hit home. He really _was_ predictable. His next words were delivered in a carefully calculated, cold tone. "No matter how hard we try to pretend, or delude ourselves in thinking we're good, we're still people who refuse to die, and don't care what we have to do to stay alive."

"Tatsumi," the other started weakly, shaking his head. The blue eyed man knew he was punching below the belt, throwing Tsuzuki's own words back at him, knowing he would not be able to refute them truthfully. He also knew he wouldn't get anywhere if he reserved his attacks to Tsuzuki. The man was too much of a masochist.

"I'm just done pretending, don't you see? And you're not going to get in the way. He's going to die." His shadows launched forward, wrapping around a barely conscious Kaede. Within seconds, another ofuda was pushing him back, forcing his shadows to retreat. Tatsumi laughed again. "You're gonna have to do better than that!"

* * *

Whatever had gotten into Tatsumi, literally or figuratively, Tsuzuki could not care about right now. He didn't have the time to brood about his words or even feel hurt by them. There was a part of him that suggested maybe there was nothing _technically_ wrong with the Kagetsukai, that he was speaking the truth, but this was not the time to consider it. Whether voluntarily or not, Tatsumi was completely out of control and he had to stop him from doing something he might or might not regret later. This wasn't about Tatsumi and him anymore. 

It was obvious, though, that he wouldn't get anywhere with just ofuda. Tatsumi had to be one of the most powerful Shinigami out there, and ofuda could barely take care of third class demons. As soon as Tatsumi's words reflected his thoughts, the Kagetsukai's shadows sprung towards the young man again, only this time, they split in two just in time to hit him as well. Tsuzuki had never felt the power of the shadows before. It wasn't so much pressure they brought on their grip, as an unbearable void. It was like going numb after staying on the same position for hours, feeling the pins and needles as the blood started flowing again, only multiplied by infinity. It was like being emptied, drained of all life force. He had to think, fast. If he was feeling like that, he dared not imagine what it was like for a mere mortal. Breathless, with his vision starting to blur, he weighed his options. He couldn't keep the tears from his eyes as he made his decision, but saw no other way.

"Suzaku," he breathed. "Come forward."

The flames obliterated the shadows even before the bird had manifested completely, but their effect did not go away immediately. Suzaku posed herself between them and Tatsumi, but otherwise remained still, and Tsuzuki could see the confusion on his Shikigami's face. He could also see, through the flames, Tatsumi standing impassively, with a self-satisfied smile that took him back a few months, to the night when everything had gone to hell. It was the second time that day that Tatsumi reminded him of the psycho, and he shuddered at what it meant. Suzaku's confusion was replaced with disbelief when Tatsumi's shadows attacked her this time. She turned her head to him, and he nodded grimly.

* * *

Tatsumi had never enjoyed fighting. He was not necessarily a peaceful person. It was more that he was annoyed by the dynamics of it. Battles drawing endlessly, while the contenders sized each other up and made a show of their abilities. Tatsumi would either win or lose a battle the moment it started. He would give it his all on the first strike. If he was powerful enough, his opponent would be out for the count, if he wasn't, then he wasn't, and it was nice to know that beforehand. He was yet to lose a battle. 

But this was different. He needed to draw it out, to draw Tsuzuki out. He was almost certain he could never beat Tsuzuki, but the amethyst eyed man wasn't going to just kill him, as Tatsumi would have had they really been fighting as enemies. Suzaku was too much Tsuzuki's Shikigami, though. The thin layer of sweat covering his brow, both due to the heat and exhaustion, was testimony of his disadvantage. His skin was starting to hurt from the flames, but they never got close enough to do any real damage. At least, he thought, he didn't have to worry about restraining his own attacks. The shadows had nothing against the fire bird.

It would require perfect calculation. Just the right amount of pressure. He needed to push the right buttons, had to make Tsuzuki snap the right way. How far would he need to take it? He was not Tsuzuki, surely Touda would not be required. But he didn't really know his limits. He figured he'd push until he couldn't anymore. There was no other way. The last thing he wanted was Tsuzuki blaming himself, but that would be unavoidable. At least he'd have people who cared to catch him, people who wouldn't be too afraid to be there for him. Just like before. And if Tsuzuki didn't do it, he'd have to make sure Enma did, which would probably be better.

Tsuzuki was staring at him intently through the flames, accusingly, angry, pained. Tatsumi wanted, needed to see hate there. So his eyes sought Kaede once more. Kaede needed to hate him, too, and attacking him seem to make Tsuzuki react, so it was his only option. He wasn't lying next to Tsuzuki, Tatsumi noted with alarm, just as he'd been a moment ago. The distraction was enough for Suzaku's blast to catch him off guard. The bird herself was obviously not pleased when a ball of fire caught him right in his middle, piercing him with a searing pain. She backed away slightly, mortified, and Tsuzuki gasped. Tatsumi fell to his knees, gripping his stomach tight, but his eyes still darted around in search of Kaede.

His heart stopped when they found him, staring at the edge of the cliff just as he had a moment before, gazing at him with a peaceful, resigned smile, and closing his eyes before letting himself fall.

****

Tsuzuku


End file.
